


Sing for Absolution

by maxcellwire



Category: Muse
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-12 03:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxcellwire/pseuds/maxcellwire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matthew Bellamy is a student studying Astrophysics at university. Startled by his appearance and slightly odd behaviour, office worker Dominic Howard decides to find out more about the boy and ends up getting drawn in further than he ever expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Had to move this over from ff.net so I'm just getting settled here for a few chapters.

I sifted through the pile of papers resting on my desk, sorting them into two separate piles of application forms and accommodation forms. Glancing to my left, I noticed that Julia had disappeared somewhere without my noticing, so I carefully rolled up the sleeves of my new, crisp white shirt. We didn't have a uniform here, as such, but we were meant to look smart, and I'd managed to spill coffee on my old shirt over the summer. The fan whirred in the corner of the office and I adjusted the tie wrapped uncomfortably around my neck before continuing with the work in front of me.

It was mid-September, the first day back for students of Kent University, and it was expected to be busy. Which meant 'rise and shine, Dominic, you've got a long day ahead of you!' Or at least, that's what I said to myself. I'm somewhat a loner, living by myself in a small house just outside the Canterbury campus. I moved away from my parents' house as soon as I turned eighteen, suffocated by their rules, and bought myself a small place with a friend from school. However, things turned ugly with us and he moved away, leaving me by myself in a house meant for two. Not only is it a struggle to keep paying the bills on my meagre salary, but it's always empty in the house. I don't have anybody to greet when I walk in the door, nobody to talk to about my day over dinner or watch late night TV with. I've gotten used to it, though. You do after a while.

Look at me moaning about my position in life to get attention. I shook my head and bit back a smile.

As the minute hand gradually inched its way towards the 12, I finished sorting through the piles and sighed, resting my elbows on the desk in front of me and placing my head in my hands. The doors opened at eight o'clock, but the first lecture of the day wasn't for another half an hour. The new undergraduates were excused for the first day and were due a tour of the campus after lunch, so most of the work would be in the afternoon. I probably could've slept in for another hour at least.

Julia slid into her seat beside me and began tapping away at a computer, her glossy nails getting chipped as she attacked the keys, furiously typing out an email.

"Everything alright?" I asked her as she pursed her lips and scanned the email she'd already finished.

"Dr Cannon said that the equipment isn't working in his room," she replied, sending the email and swivelling her chair towards me. She ran a hand through her straight blonde hair. "The tech staff weren't answering his phone call so, of course, I had to go down there and see what was wrong. As per usual." A small smile tugged at my lips.

"It's because everyone's heard what a fantastic job you do already. They're looking for the best." She chuckled.

"Enough with the flattery, Dominic, it's only the first day back!" I shrugged. Julia's been working here for years and years and years. I started my job two and a half years ago when her previous work partner left to study Psychology, having earned enough to finally pay the expensive fees, so the opening I'd been waiting for had arrived. Since then, Julia and I have been working together to make sure that all the official documents are recorded, students are turned in the right direction etcetera. Although the head of the campus has his own secretary, Julia ends up doing most of those duties herself. It's in her nature to do everything she can, as she can't even sit down without bouncing her knees up and down with all that spare energy. She's also my only friend in this whole place. When everything fell apart with Mark, she was there to help me through it, and I think that was when we became friendlier than just workmates.

I heard footsteps heading towards us and I turned to face the front, Julia continuing with her work, to see a young woman inquiring about her room. The next couple of minutes continued like this, more and more students filing in through the big double doors as the pair of us fended off complaints about the accommodation and questioning newcomers who'd gotten a bit lost.

About five minutes before the first lecture was due to start, a young man came up to me. He rested one elbow on the desk and asked me if he could sign in.

"Sure," I told him. "That's kind of a requirement."

A small smile flickered across his thin lips as I passed him the sign-in sheet that was already covered in scrawled names and times. He picked up a pen and wrote 'Matthew Bellamy, 8:26' in sloppy handwriting at the bottom of the page in a free space before handing it back.

"Could you tell me where the first lecture is please? I'm on the Astrophysics course, second year, I've got a lecture with Dr Cannon on Nuclear Physics but I've got no idea where I'm supposed to be," he told me, smiling sheepishly with a delicate blush staining tickling his cheeks. I looked up at him, properly looking at him for the first time, and took in his features. A shock of black hair was arranged messily on his head that contrasted brilliantly with his pale skin. He had cheekbones that could cut glass and a sharp, defined jaw, a slightly crooked nose and piercing blue eyes. I glanced down, trying to hide my surprise and not to look like I was checking him out, even though I obviously was.

I glanced at the timetable pinned to the noticeboard beside me, the schedules overflowing with overlapping lectures, and found his location. He drummed his fingers on the desk impatiently .

"You'll be in Lecture Hall 1. Looks like your course is pretty popular this year."

"Yeah, I guess so. It's a really interesting topic." We both looked at the clock at the same time.

"You'd better hurry before you're too late," I stated.

"Thanks, Mr..." he peered at the badge pinned lazily to my shirt, "Mr Howard." I nodded and watched him walk away, eyes dropping lower than they probably should have. Julia cleared her throat from next to me and I felt my cheeks heat ever so slightly.

"Somebody's got a crush!" she sang, giggling like a schoolgirl.

"I do not!" I insisted, turning back to my work.

"You do, you _do_ , you're blushing!" I shook my head defiantly. "Come on, you have to admit, he was pretty cute." I laughed.

"What about your boyfriend?"

"Doesn't mean I can't look," she replied with a smirk. "And I was thinking more for you, of course."

"Julia, you don't have to try and hook me up with every good-looking guy we see," I sighed.

"So you admit that he's good-looking?"

"I never said that he wasn't, I just said that I don't have a crush on him!"

There was a sharp rap on the desk and we both turned to face a line of students, startled. Oops. We both continued with our work, directing the students to their lectures and marking them in on the main register. During a break in the flow of people, I was entering the names into our database when I spied 'Matthew Bellamy' written there. After confirming that he was indeed present for today's session, I clicked on his name, curious.

As the page began to load, I spotted a picture of him in the top right corner of the page. In the picture he looked younger, even though it was only taken just over a year ago. His hair was dark brown instead of black, softening his face rather than sharpening it. On the left, there was a table of data, just as expected. Matthew Bellamy was only twenty years old and had been since the ninth of June earlier that year. He was studying the Astrophysics and Astronomy course here in the Ingram building. I turned my nose up. Physics had never been my strong point, and especially not Physics that you couldn't see in action. A quick glance at his educational history told me all I needed to know. He was exceptionally intelligent, achieving high grades in a range of subjects, and had a small collection of extra-curricular activities to his name. His personal history, or a summary of it, was also available underneath the details but needed a password to access it.

I probably had the password tucked away in one of these drawers but I refrained from using it, instead closing down the page and continuing to mark people in. Matthew's personal history was none of my business. He was just a student that passed by.

I turned around to get something and briefly spotted a smirk plastered on Julia's face. It was only there for a split-second, but I knew exactly what it meant. I'd only just met the boy and already I was looking up his details. I squeezed my eyes shut, running a hand through my dishevelled blonde hair, and reached for the box of files on the floor. Somehow, I was going to have to get him out of my head. I knew from experience that it was impossible to have an obsession with somebody you can't have, fancying my fair share of straight guys over the years only to be disappointed. However, this was a new record for me. Our conversation barely lasted five minutes, and Matthew was only asking for my help. Nothing wonderful, nothing profound about it at all. Just like any other student that passes here every single day of the year. And yet, somehow, completely different to all of them.


	2. Chapter 2

I stumbled upon Matthew again when I went to buy myself some lunch from the building's cafe later that day. As I stood in the line to pay, my cheese sandwich and bottle of lemonade resting on the tray I held, I happened to glance around the room. It was fairly empty, as many of the students were currently attending a lecture, hence I was able to take a quick break from work. In the corner of the room, Matthew Bellamy sat, curled up in a worn leather armchair. He was deeply engrossed in a thick book, a cup of what I presumed to be coffee cooling on the table in front of him. As I watched him, hypnotised by the rhythm of his fingers turning the pages, another young man strolled up to his table. He leaned over Matthew's shoulder and spoke to him. Startled, Matthew looked up and put a bookmark in his book before setting it down next to his coffee. As Matthew spoke to this new boy, his eyes swept the room. I turned my head as they reached the queue, pretending to be interested in the soup of the day menu.

After paying, I took a quick peek back at his table. He downed the dregs of his coffee and placed his book in a bag that I hadn't noticed prior to this before tucking in the chair and leaving the room. Trying not to look like I was following him, I kept a few paces behind him as I carried my lunch back to the main office. My footsteps seemed ridiculously loud in the empty corridors, and I knew for certain that Matthew was aware of my presence, yet he didn't once mention it.  _Why would he anyway? It's not like he knows you._  I shook my head and turned into my office, nudging the door open with my hip.

"That doesn't look like a cup of tea to me," Julia accused. I put the tray down on my desk and slapped my forehead.

"Damn," I mumbled. "Sorry, Julia, I forgot to get you one." I must've been too distracted. She sighed at me and got up out of her chair.

"If you want something done, you've got to do it yourself," she muttered , leaving the office. I sat back down in my seat and proceeded to open the packaging to my sandwich. Just as I'd taken the first bite-and I was a little disappointed; living alone over the summer, I'd been cooking for myself, and my sandwiches had been far nicer than this-there was a knock on the office door. I stood up once again, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand to get rid of any stray crumbs, and answered the door. I took a step backwards in surprise, not expecting to see Matthew standing in the doorway, hands claspe nervously in front of him.

"Mr Howard, right?" he asked. I nodded. "Hi, I'm really sorry, I think I left something in here before." I frowned.

"I've been here all day and I only saw you this morning," I told him.

"Oh, I know, it's just that I, er, I left something here before the holidays." He shuffled his feet awkwardly and rubbed the side of his nose. I eyed him suspiciously but let him in.

"Do you remember whereabouts you put it?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's over here..." He drifted over to a corner of the office where students were allowed to leave items that they didn't want to be taking into lectures and classes. Bent over, searching the corner of the room, I had quite a nice view of his rear. It wasn't anything spectacular, as arses go, but I could imagine it being quite nice. And, after creating this analysis, I mentally slapped myself. "I had an experiment before the term ended and accidentally forgot about this." He waved another book at me, having fished it from the pile of long-forgotten property. I smiled. The fact that Matthew liked books was only making my situation worse, being a bit of a book-nerd myself. I wondered if he had read any of my favourites, and daydreamed momentarily about having a discussion or heated debate about character portrayals and relevance to historical context. A heated debate that would develop and possibly end in...

 _No_ , I reminded myself,  _he's a science student. Student. Stop this right now._

"Oh," I laughed. I peered at the cover of his book. " _Crossing the Rubicon_? What's that about?"

"Oh, it's about, erm, 9/11 and the oil crisis in America and stuff," he informed me. I blinked at him. "It's really interesting, actually. There's a lot of theories about whether the government organised the attacks and whether the war really is on terrorism, war or something else? To be honest, it could just be an excuse to show off their military power. We know that the population is growing anyway, so why not get rid of some people? It makes sense."

He gestured manically as he spoke, his speech increasing in speed so much that I noticed a slight inability to pronounce his 'r's peeking through his otherwise flawless words. It was an endearing quality, and I cursed Matthew Bellamy for being everything that my inner self yearned for. Just a naive young man, unaware that he was torturing me in the worst way possible.

_Yes, Dominic, you've known him for about four hours._

"That sounds...complicated." He shrugged with a small laugh.

"I guess so. This is the sort of thing that I'm interested in, though." So much for discussions about literature. "Although I do like a good novel or two." He reached in his bag for the book he was reading earlier, producing a battered copy of  _1984_. I grinned at him.

"I  _adore_  that book."

"Same here! There's so much depth to it, it's brilliant." Although, knowing Matthew-or in my case, guessing about Matthew-he was more interested in the revolutionary side instead of the lover story like I was more inclined to enjoy.

"Anything else you like? Shakespeare? Steinbeck?" I could list a million different authors off the top of his head, but I had a feeling he would recognise these two. He scoffed.

"We studied both of those authors for English GSCE; it put me off completely." I felt my eyes widen.

"How is that even possible? " I questioned. "I loved analysing the books. It helped me to understand them more, see the ulterior motives of the writer." Thinking about this made me feel wistful of my high school days. Not for the first time, I wished that I hadn't decided to drop out before college had finished. I wished that I could've got the grades I wanted. Most of all, I wished that I was a journalist, travelling the country and writing about it, not stuck in this office.

"I guess I don't see how the colour of the curtains can help explain the mood of the characters." I chuckled. He had a point.

Our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Julia through the office door. She carried a half-empty tea cup in one hand, her handbag slung over her shoulder and overflowing with goodness-knows-what. She winked at me as she passed through.

"Is there a problem here?" she asked innocently, knowing full well that we were only having a conversation. Matthew turned around to face her and I scowled at her over his shoulder.

"Oh, no, I was just retrieving my book and I was talking to Mr Howard about it," Matthew explained. "I'll be going now, then." She nodded and set her tea down by her computer. Matthew stood for a moment, raised his hand to wave at me tentatively, lowered it, bit his lip, raised it again, and then left, leaving the door swinging behind him. As soon as he left, Julia whispered,

"You've got it so bad."

"I haven't!" I protested. "We were just having a conversation. It would've been the same if you'd been here instead of me."

"Right." She rolled her eyes and turned to face her computer. "You can't fool me, Dom." I ignored her, finishing my sandwich and then getting back to work.

Every day for the next couple of weeks that followed, I saw Matthew pass by the office each morning and afternoon. Not once did he come up to ask for help, although he did glance in my general direction on several occasions. Every morning, I hoped desperately that he might come to talk to me again, and every afternoon I was disappointed.

I began to get used to Matthew's routine. He was always running late, no exception. He ran in at twenty-five past eight or later, hair dishevelled and bag swinging on his shoulder. He had a lecture nearly every morning. Sometimes he had a lab session in the afternoon, so he didn't leave until four. Other days he left just after lunch. And sometimes he just decided to remain in the building and study. Just to confuse me, of course. At least, that's what I'd convinced myself. Of course he was doing everything to annoy me, now that I'd appointed him as my own personal tormentor. Every move he made succeeded in making me more and more interested in the boy. Why was he so interested in strange conspiracy theories? What had made him interested in Astrophysics? What was in the restricted section on his profile? The questions made me toss and turn at night, the echo in the house my only company.

Maybe I just needed a friend, somebody to hang out with. Julia and I were friends, but she was often too busy after work. Having been in each other's presence all day, she needed a break from me sometimes, and she found this with her other friends. I wished that I had the courage to go with her to bars and dances, to go out and make friends instead of waiting for doors to open for me. All I needed was some company, and maybe then I'd get over this developing obsession with Matthew Bellamy. Just be friends with anybody. That was all I needed to do. Make friends. Get a social life. Everything would sort itself out.

At least, that's what I told myself.


	3. Chapter 3

In the second week of October, Autumn truly began, and with it arrived the rain that wouldn't leave us for at least three months. As I lived only a few roads away from the main campus, I tended to walk home from work, and that would be my exercise for the day. I got into the habit of carrying a large, brightly coloured umbrella with me everywhere I went, and it rained so often that it barely got a chance to dry out where I left it in the corner of the office.

One evening, I was walking home later than I usually would have been. Although it was only early evening, the dark clouds gave the illusion that it was far later, and the rain hammered so heavily on my umbrella that I thought it might break through. I hurried through the streets that led to my home, carefully avoiding puddles and keeping to the inside of the pavement so that I wouldn't be splashed by passing cars.

On the other side of the road, I spotted a skinny man speeding along the path, his breath fogging up in front of him and his slender arms wrapped around his torso. I instantly felt bad for the boy, his dark hair pressed right against his skull, and realised that I probably had enough room under this umbrella for two of us. I sped up to try and get a look at his face and offer my umbrella to him, and was startled to see it was Matthew. What was he doing, walking aimlessly around in the rain at dinnertime?

"Hey!" I called, a little tentatively. "Matthew!" He paused and turned towards me, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. I beckoned him over to my side of the road, and he quickly checked for oncoming cars before walking over to me. As he got closer, I could see that he was soaked through, his skinny jeans probably tighter than they should have been. Droplets of rain dropped from his fringe and slid down his long nose before falling into the puddles below. I scooted over to the side and allowed him under the umbrella.

"Mr Howard, hi!" he greeted me, gesturing at our cover. "Thank you." He smiled nervously at his feet as we continued to walk.

"Where are you headed to?" I asked him. "Shouldn't you be at home instead of out here?"

"Well, I caught the bus into town after my lecture, because I heard there was a nice record shop somewhere." He produced a vintage-looking CD case from his jacket pocket to show me before putting it away again so it wouldn't get rained on. "And when I got off the bus on the way home, I got off at completely the wrong place. I wasn't even near the campus! So I walked in the general direction of where I'm staying but, as you can see, I didn't end up there." I laughed.

"Aren't you a second-year? Surely you should know your way around by now." He itched the side of his nose nervously with long, pale fingers. I noticed that his nails were bitten down to the quick.

"Well I moved for this year, so I'm still not entirely used to my surroundings. I keep trying to go back there and only remember when I see somebody else's stuff on the windowsill." He sighed and I frowned. Usually students only moved if they were studying as a post-graduate. They tended to stay in the same place for the first three years and get used to the pressure of owning a place. Still, it wasn't any of my business why Matthew had moved house.

As we arrived at my own house on Downs Road, I fished my keys out of my pocket.

"Erm, would you like to come in?" I wondered, hoping I didn't seem too creepy. "Have a cup of tea and dry off, maybe? Unless you have somewhere to be, of course." I looked at him inquisitively. He bit his lip.

"No, I don't have anywhere to be," he admitted. We headed up the small pathway and I stuck the keys in the door. As soon as I'd nudged the door open, I stepped inside and closed the umbrella, shoving it temporarily in the corner of the porch. Matthew remained outside, and after I'd taken my shoes off, I turned towards him.

"Are you coming in?"

He shrugged. "I don't want to intrude, Mr Howard."

"Psssh, I invited you in, Matthew. You're perfectly welcome."

"Oh...well, okay then." Only then did he step inside and carefully wipe his trainers on the doormat before taking them off and placing them beside mine. The laces were dirty where they'd dangled into the puddles. He shut the door behind him and peeled his jacket away from his skin, pulling a face as he wriggled the sodden material off his arm. It must've been relatively new, as his arms had slight dark patches where the dye had rubbed off onto his skin. I took the jacket from him and hung it over the banister with my anorak. He thanked me and felt his T-shirt. Despite being covered by the jacket, it had still suffered from the rain. However, against my desperate inner pleas-I had started to ignore my conscience and go with my emotions-the shirt remained on, and he instead followed me into the house. I gestured to the sitting room.

"Make yourself at home," I told him. "I'm just going to make some tea." I left Matthew alone in the sitting room as I headed for the kettle. It had been a surprisingly long time since I'd filled the kettle with enough water for two cups, and I smiled as I realised I had company for the evening. And it was  _Matthew Bellamy_. Even if he was only staying for one cup of tea. As I waited for the water to boil, I reached for my phone and sent a quick text to Julia, eagerly anticipating her teasing response before I'd even sent it. Sure enough, the phone vibrated almost immediately after I'd put it back down.

_You have to tell me EVERYTHING as soon as he's gone! X_   I chuckled

_It's not an interrogation session,_  I replied.  _He's just staying for tea._

_Who knows, this might be your lucky break._

_...I hope so._  Even though I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to hear, let alone what I expected. Did I think I could just charm Matthew into being my friend after inviting him in to shield him from the rain? No, that wouldn't make sense. He was a lot more reserved than that. I thought back to when he hesitated in front of my door and realised that he probably didn't socialise with other people much. I wondered whether he had many friends aside from his roommates, and then I cursed myself for thinking such a horrible thing about him. He seemed like a perfectly nice boy, just not exactly the kind that most uni kids would be looking for. Instead, he was perfect for somebody all over the place, like me.

I poured the water into two mugs and prepared the tea, adding a little extra milk to mine, as per usual. I carried the two mugs into the sitting room and set them down on the little coffee table in front of the battered, old sofa. I felt my cheeks flush as I realised what a state my house was in, not having thought about how messy it was before inviting Matthew in. What would he think of the plates that hadn't been cleaned yet? Would he be bothered that all my furniture was tatty and second-hand? No, of course not. He's a student. He probably can't afford to be picky himself. I shook my head at myself and sat down with my tea, taking a sip as I watched Matthew study my meagre collection of CDs.

"Quite a collection you have here," he noted. I felt a small smile flicker on my lips.

"I have a lot more stored on the computer," I informed him.

"Yeah, I guess that's the same with a lot of us. It's a shame that so many people have lost the joy in listening to an actual CD." He picked up the mug with shaking, grateful fingers and sank into the chair across the room, still looking around. Maybe he was noting the significantly larger selection of books above my head or the lack of a television where it should typically be placed. I set down my mug and stood up, unsure whether it would be suitable to ask him or whether it was considered going too far when we'd only had a handful of exchanges so far.

"Would you like to borrow some clothes?" I asked quietly. "You must be freezing in those, and I'm sure I might have a few that could fit you. I mean, you might have to roll up the sleeves a bit or something, but-" He cut me off and smiled.

"That'd be really lovely, thanks, Mr Howard." I smiled back.

"Please, call me Dom."

"Okay...Dom." He tested it out and, satisfied that it suited me, snuggled back down into the seat. I nipped upstairs and began to rifle through my chest of drawers, looking for a shirt that would fit Matthew but didn't give anything too obvious away about me. I chucked them on my bed as I dismissed them, panicking as the wooden bottom of the drawer began to poke through the bundles of shirts. That one was too gay, this one was too small, that one was far too big, this one had paint splatters on it. Eventually I settled for a plain white shirt that was a little bit tight on me but should be fine on Matthew. I also pulled out a pair of non-descript jeans from the drawer below and headed back downstairs with the clothes in my arms. I could hear music coming from the living room and my eyebrows knitted together, surprised that shy Matthew had taken the liberty to put my music on. Not that I minded. In fact, I was glad he'd done it; perhaps he was relaxing a bit more.

"Ah, Queen," I sighed as I walked through the door. "Perfect choice." He chuckled.

"They're such a weird band, it's great," he agreed. I handed him the clothes.

"These should be fine. If you want a jacket or something, just ask." He nodded.

"Um, sorry, I mean, where's the bathroom?" He passed the clothes from hand to hand, looking down as he asked. I watched him curiously.

"Oh, it's just at the top of the stairs. The first door you see." He nodded.

"Thanks, Dom." I watched as he left the room, the clothes slung over one arm and the other working to peel the sopping fabric of his shirt away from his skin. I was allowed just a glimpse of his pale torso before he disappeared behind the banister. I sighed and leaned against the wall, closing my eyes for a second as I tried to calm myself down.  _So what, he's in your house. Big deal. It's not like anything's going to happen. Can't you just act like he's any other guy?_ Yet, despite what I tried to force myself to do, I couldn't get the skinny boy out of my head.

Trying to keep thoughts that I really oughtn't to have been thinking out of my head, I tried to be productive and get something done. I took Matthew's jacket from the banister and carried it into the kitchen. I tried to wring out some of the water without ruining it before hanging it over the clothes airer I'd had out permanently recently, the weather being too miserable to dry my clothes outside.

Matthew appeared at the foot of the stairs, tugging nervously at the hem of the white shirt. I was right; it fit him perfectly. He'd rolled the bottoms of the trouser legs up a little bit so that he didn't ruin the bottoms, but otherwise the clothes really suited him. For some reason, the sight of Matthew in my clothes just made my case even worse. I bit my lip to stop myself from incriminating myself by saying something stupid, instead taking his wet clothes that he'd balled up from him and wringing them out in the sink before hanging them with the jacket.

We both sat back down in our former positions, Matthew nodding along to the music as he nursed his mug of tea. I pulled a random book from the shelf behind me, hoping Matthew wouldn't mind that we weren't conversing. I half expected him to ask if he could read something, but instead, as I neared the end of the first chapter, I heard him humming along to the music. A small flicker of envy rose up in me at the sound of his voice. I'd always wanted to be able to sing, but I couldn't hold a note to save my life, and I'd been told frequently that I couldn't sing at all. One of the privileges of living alone was that I could sing in the shower without anybody complaining.

Matthew began to sing along quietly as he stared off into space, and I wondered if he even realised he was doing it. He had a nice voice, melodic and soft, perfectly pitched, and I realised I was reading the same page over and over. As his hair dried off, he ran a hand through it and, instead of flopping back down, it stayed stuck up as if he'd gelled it that way. It looked almost fluffy, and I sat on my hand to avoid reaching out to touch it.

"I'll have to get a haircut soon," he mumbled. Was I meant to hear that or had he forgotten I was even there? I made a small noise of protest and he glanced up at me as if he'd only just noticed I was there. I smiled at him, hoping he would initiate conversation. When I realised that was too much to wish for, I set my book aside.

"Would you like to stay for tea?" I asked. I held my breath waiting for his answer.

"Don't you have plans or something?" he wondered.

"Not really. I was only planning on eating alone today, but I'm sure I can fix something up for the two of us." He gave me a look of pleased disbelief.

"That'd be really nice, Dom, thanks."

"Do you want to call someone and let them know where you are?" His face fell a little. "Roommates, maybe?" He shrugged.

"They won't care where I am. They've probably disappeared off to a club or something."

He wore a tragic expression on his face, so I simply nodded and asked if pasta would be okay. He nodded enthusiastically, reaching for the book and reading the blurb as I returned to the kitchen. Just as I was fetching the pasta out of the cupboard, Matthew appeared behind me. He peered over my shoulder and watched me work, even though I wasn't doing anything spectacular. After about five minutes of watching me in silence, he hopped up onto the counter and observed from there, swinging his legs carefully so that they wouldn't bash the washing machine underneath. I chuckled at him and he giggled back at me, and odd yet endearingly high-pitched sound. I couldn't figure this boy out. One minute he's too nervous to even enter my house, then he's singing along to Queen, wearing my clothes and sitting on the counter. It was almost as if he was a different person.

After microwaving a tin of sauce, I spooned it over the pasta, grated some cheddar and presented him with dinner. We sat at the table in the corner and I smiled to see somebody occupying the chair opposite me.

"So," I began between mouthfuls of pasta, Matthew eagerly eating his up, "what do you have planned for this weekend?"

"Tomorrow I've got work all day." He gave a grunt of annoyance. "It's not all that bad, as I work in a guitar shop, but I've got this really obnoxious colleague who thinks he knows everything, and my friends always choose Saturday to go out and Sunday to prepare for the next week." He gave an exasperated sigh and ran a hand through his hair again.

"That doesn't seem very fair of them."

"Well, they've both got girlfriends and I'm sort of the third wheel, so I'm not surprised they like to go out without me. Usually when we hang out, I'm standing awkwardly by the side. It's really embarrassing." His cheeks heat just at the thought of it, his voice lowering to a mumble. "It used to be better before the girls came along. I used to practice with Chris a lot and Tom wouldn't mind me rambling on about Science, because he's doing a Biology course. But now neither of them have time for me, they just act like I'm some annoying kid." He stopped speaking suddenly, probably aware that he'd been the only one saying anything for a few minutes and that I'd been listening attentively.

"Yeah, relationships get in the way of everything," I added. Matthew nodded.

"I hate it here," Matthew mumbled. "In the university. I used to really enjoy it and stuff. The studies are great, and I like the responsibility and I like being treated as a proper adult. I just hate the people. Sometimes I just feel like killing them all." I laughed lightly.

"I see what you mean there."

"No, you don't. You wouldn't understand. Did you go to uni?" I shook my head. "Then you wouldn't understand." I realised I was treading on thin ice, and paused to think through my words before I spoke.

"Matthew, I might not have gone to university, but I  _did_  go to high school, and the people probably aren't that much different. I had a pretty tough time, myself." Deciding to change tactics, Matthew looked up at me through his lashes, training his blue eyes on me.

"How did you deal with it?" His voice was small, almost ashamed to be admitting these things, despite not revealing anything personal.

"Just ignore them. If they're stupid enough to tease you about who you are, then you're a better person than them. And if you ignore them, they'll leave you alone." He shook his head.

"I think my case is a little different to yours. It's not that I'm being bullied or anything. And it's not because of who I am or what I do, it's just what happens to me. It's everything that's out of my control. There's nothing I can do about it."

"...well, I guess I should've realised yours wouldn't be the same problem as mine." I let my spoon clatter down into the bowl, having finished all of my pasta.

"What...do you mind me asking, w-what was your problem?" I felt the ends of my lips turn up. Should I really tell him this? If I wanted to be his friend, I'd have to tell him sooner or later, but I was nervous about his reaction. He didn't seem like the judging type and, looking at his face, he seemed genuinely interested in my problems.

"I was bullied for being gay," I admitted.


	4. Chapter 4

I watched as the pieces slowly clicked together in Matthew's mind, the expression on his face morphing from confusion to anger.

"They bullied you...for being gay?" he asked, his teeth gritted together. I nodded meekly, still watching his face and waiting with bated breath for his reaction. He slammed the empty mug of tea down on the table. "That's not fair! Honestly, it's people like that who make me sick of this planet. How is it even right to tease you for who you are, for something you have no control over?"

"Some people just don't like it." I reminded him softly. "It's 'not natural' and whatever."

"And why should that make any difference to them? If they don't like it, fine. But why can't they leave you alone? It's the 21st century, for fuck's sake! We should be accepting of other people and their choices. So what if you fancy guys? For God's sake, some people _really_ get on my nerves. We should be allowed to do what we want."

As quickly as the spark had arrived, it died down again and Matthew slumped back into the chair, the sparkle fading from his eyes as he hung his head to hide his flushed cheeks. I sat, speechless. Had I expected that outburst from shy Matthew? No, I couldn't admit that I had. Sure, I'd noticed he had a bit of fire when we'd chatted about CD collections earlier on, but...this gave me a ridiculous hope.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I shouldn't get so worked up about things. I just hate it."

"It's okay," I said. "I hate it too. Loads of us hate it, and you've got every right to be mad about it." I received no reply. "If it makes you feel better, I'm glad that somebody else is sticking up for us. Sometimes it feels like a battle in vain, desperately trying to be accepted by people who just won't change their minds."

"Well, I'm rooting for you." I smiled at him.

"Thanks." Matthew finished off the rest of his pasta in the silence, leaving me to sift through my thoughts. He hadn't actually mentioned ever having a significant other. Had he had a girlfriend? A boyfriend, even? It'd been difficult to make sure my relief didn't show through too easily, but I was so glad that Matthew wasn't disturbed by my sexuality. In fact, he was quite the opposite, which would only make things harder for me.

I was broken out of my reverie by the sound of the spoon scraping against the metal of the bowl.

"Hey," I joked. "I'd like to keep the pattern on that bowl, thanks!" Matthew smirked at me.

"I just wanted to get the last of it. It was really great, thanks, Dom."

"Pssh, thank Mr Ragu. He made the sauce." Matt chuckled quietly and then stood up, taking his bowl out into the kitchen. He placed it on top of the stack of plates precariously balanced in the sink, standing back for a moment before judging that it was safe to leave. I heard the music continuing to flow from the doorway to the sitting room as I followed Matthew in. He sat back down in his previous position and picked up the newspaper that I'd left to fester on the coffee table. As he flipped through the pages, he glanced up at me over the top of the paper.

"You don't mind my being here, do you?" he wondered. "Do I have to be gone by a certain time or..." He paused, waiting for my reaction.

"Well, it depends," I answered truthfully. "If you need help getting home at all, I can help, but I don't have a car so we'd have to walk or get the bus or something. I really don't mind, Matthew. It's Friday night. Neither of us are doing anything, so why not stay?" He smiled.

"Have you got anything to do? Other than read, I mean?" As I tried to understand what he meant by that, he hurriedly added, "I mean, reading is great. I love reading, honestly, but I just thought that, I don't know, maybe, do you have any, um, games or something? That would could do...together?" I laughed as he stumbled over his words and forced myself up out of the sofa seat.

"I think I've got an old Cluedo board upstairs. I could go and try to find it for you and we could play that, if you want?" I hadn't played board games with anybody in years, and if I was being painfully honest, I was actually looking forward to playing it.

"I'd like that, yeah." He shot me that adorable grin, his slightly crooked front tooth poking out. I turned away, squeezing my eyes shut briefly and committing the image to memory. I'd always wanted to have a relationship where we created a photo album of our time together. Call me sentimental, but there had been several times over the course of the year where I'd wished I had more physical memories of my past instead of just keeping it all in my head. Maybe, just maybe, if we could keep hanging out, Matthew would agree to that with me. As friends.

Of course I was dreaming. The suggestion itself was absurd; add that to the fact I barely knew the boy and you'd wonder why I even thought of it. There was just something about him that made me want to keep dreaming, no matter how futile they were.

I heard footsteps on the stairs behind me and realised that Matthew was following me up to my room. It was only as I was opening the door that I remembered what a state I'd left it in. My bed-a double bed, courtesy of my previous boyfriend-was covered in the clothes I'd dismissed earlier, and more items were spilling out of the drawers I'd clumsily left open in my haste. Matthew followed me in as I ignored the mess and headed straight for the bed. I knelt down and searched blindly underneath the bed, unable to see through the small gap. My hand came across a small, cardboard box and I pulled it out. Blowing the dust from the top of it onto the bedroom floor, after mentally making a note to clean up the next day, I held it up to show it to Matthew. He was standing beside me, holding up a pair of luminescent green trousers that had been strewn across the bed, with one eyebrow raised.

"You actually wear these?" he asked me, disbelief colouring his voice. I shrugged.

"I like them." He muttered something incomprehensibly and put them back down on the bed carefully, instead focussing on the box I held in my hand.

"You found it! I haven't played this game in years!" I got up from my knees, handing him the box so I could use my bed for leverage, and he sprinted downstairs with it, his laugh echoing in the hallway. I followed him down with a bemused smile etched onto my face and found him setting the board up on the sitting room floor, his legs crossed as he shuffled a deck of cards. I glanced at the instructions leaflet, refreshing my memory of the gameplay before sitting opposite him and selecting a miniature token to represent my character.

"Reverend Green?" Matthew questioned and I shrugged.

"There's no meaning behind it. I just like the colour." He tilted his head to the side and placed the red counter at his starting point.

"Miss Scarlet?"

"There's no meaning behind it," he replied, stealing my words with a smirk. "I just like the colour." I shook my head. I couldn't get my head around this boy.

After setting up the gameboard, Matthew rolled the dice first, moving his character into a blank spot. He stuck his tongue out upon hearing my laugh and waited for me to complete my turn.

Half an hour later, Matthew was bouncing around impatiently, desperately moving his character towards the middle of the board where the answer cards lay. As soon as he reached it, I knew I'd been defeated. Trying to reign in a smile, he confidently determined that the murderer was,

"Professor Plum in the library with the candlestick," unveiled the answer cards and gave a whoop of delight, scrambling to his feet and dancing around the sitting room. I lay on my back, abandoning the game, and watched Matthew stumble around, laughing softly. _I think you'll find it was actually Matthew Bellamy in the sitting room with the knife through my heart._ As he made his way back down to me, he flicked on the light switch and pressed repeat on the CD player.

"I win, I win," he chanted. "Haha sucker! I beat you-ou!" He hiccupped suddenly, and clapped his hands over his mouth in shock. I roared with laughter.

"There wasn't any alcohol in that tea, was there?" I snickered. He narrowed his eyes at me playfully.

"Yeah, it was all part of your plan to get me drunk and then steal me-hic-away in the middle of the night to your gay paradise," he rambled and then convulsed with maniacal laughter. I frowned at him.

"What?"

"I was joking. I was-hic-pretending to be like, I was making fun of the-hic-homophobes because of course you're not going to-hic-kidnap me. Damn hiccups!"

"Riiight." I glanced out of the window, shocked to see it was dark. How late was it? I  began to panic as I wondered how I could possibly convince Matthew to leave without seeming rude. It wasn't that I particularly wanted him to go, but I was tired and I wouldn't be able to rest easy until I knew he was safe at home. So how was I supposed to make him go?

Matthew held a hand up to his face, hiding a yawn, and then rubbed his eyes.

"I should probably be heading home," he told me, relieving all my problems instantly. I hopped up.

"Do you need some help getting home?" I inquired.

"If you wouldn't mind." In the dark, I could only just see the blush that tinted his cheeks. "Oh! You probably want your clothes back, don't you?" We wandered into the kitchen and I felt his T-shirt, cringing.

"It's still soaking wet," I Informed him with a grimace. "If you want to borrow those for a while then that's fine. You'll catch a cold if you go out wearing wet clothes." He bit his lip.

"Okay, Dom. Thanks. I'll give them back on Monday, I promise. Washed and all." I chuckled.

"You don't have to do all that. Just stay warm. The weather looks like it's going to be pretty horrible for the next week or so." Or maybe month. Or year. He nodded and folded up the sodden clothes, slinging his jacket over his shoulder as we headed for the porch. I opened up my umbrella and we stepped out. I locked the door behind me, and we set out for the university, following my usual route to work in the morning. The streets were empty, the sound of cars in the distance and the crunch of our feet on the gravel the only things we could hear. It wasn't uncomfortable as it usually was with other people, and I found myself content with simply walking beside him, trying to keep time with his feet, my wide strides slower than his fast-paced movements.

"Where exactly do you live?" I asked him, breaking the silence between us.

"Oh, I'm in a flat on the Park Woods' campus," he replied, and I nodded, recognising the name. It was just under a mile away, if we followed the roads, and was quite close to where Matthew's lectures usually were. I wondered briefly where he'd lived previously, the forbidden question once again flickering in my mind, before leaving it to settle at the back, hoping that I'd forget it. It wasn't any of my business. Matthew would tell me in time, if he wanted to.

We conversed about various insignificant things on the way to Matthew's flat. I asked him what he was enjoying about his course and he told me what books he was waiting for from the library. Even between topics, I was fine with just being next to him. The streetlights spoiled the view of the sky, so I could barely make out any stars in the sky, but I knew that they were there and was comforted by that. Speaking of stars...

"What inspired you to get into astronomy?" I wondered.

"Well, I've always been fascinated by space," Matthew explained. "Ever since I was a kid and saw some pictures they'd taken of stars and all the theories, and as the technology developed and I saw all the pictures of the faraway galaxies and nebulae, I just wondered how it all worked. I wondered why there was nothing that beautiful on this planet and realised that, if I wanted to get closer to it, I'd have to study it. Of course, it links into various other things. I enjoyed Physics at school and figuring out how to get things working, and there's various theories I've stumbled across that involve space. So far, I've found that many of them are plausible, no matter how outrageous they may seem. I think the real question should be: how can you not be amazed by it?"

"It is beautiful," I admitted. "Sometimes I just think it's best to leave beauty be. For me, part of the beauty of things is that they're independent and mysterious. If we find out why they exist, they don't seem as exciting anymore." There was a break in the conversation, and then Matthew mumbled softly,

"Would you say the same about people?" Stunned for a moment, I watched him through the corner of my eye and thought through my answer.

"To an extent, yes. But not always. Sometimes I think that somebody is an amazing person, and then when I delve deeper, they're not as interesting as I thought they were. And then sometimes I'm interested in a person and, despite what I find out about them, they continue to confound me. I think they're definitely the best type of people, the ones who keep you on your toes." No prizes for guessing who I had in mind there. Matthew nodded, taking in my answer and, seemingly satisfied, quizzed me on my favourite books. By the time we reached his house, we were laughing over a similarity in tastes and several mishaps that had occurred in the local library during my younger years. Matthew stopped in front of a nondescript brick building and announced,

"Well, here we are." I stopped beside him and looked up at the building and then around at the road.

"I hope for your sake that your window faces the other way," I muttered. He chuckled.

"It does, thankfully. It's not really that bad here, though. It looks better in the daylight." He readjusted the clothes under his arm and looked at me. "Um, well, thanks very much for dinner, Dom. It was a really lovely evening." I grinned.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Best Friday night I've had in a while." A sad smile flickered across his face. "Anyway, I'll give you these," he gestured to the clothes he was wearing, "back on Monday."

"Well, there's no rush. I don't usually wear those anyway; I wouldn't notice if they were missing." He turned behind him and rung the doorbell.

"Okay, well...thanks again!" The door opened behind him and a tall chap with dark curly hair appeared in the doorway.

"Hiya, Matt!" he greeted him. "Forget your keys again?" A set of housekeys were dangling from his finger, a small, guitar-shaped keyring hanging from them. Matthew-sorry, Matt-playfully punched the boy's arm.

"I was getting worried that you wouldn't be home. I wouldn't want to encroach on Dom, here, but it may've ended up necessary if you were out or something, Chris." Chris chortled.

"Kelly wanted to stay at home this evening. We been watching some sappy film." He pulled a face. "I wish I was out with Tom." I watched the exchange, amused by the banter. "Um, hi there, Dom?" He stuck his hand out and I squeezed it in a way of greeting.

"Hi, Chris," I answered.

"Nice to see that Matt's made a new friend. I can't be watching over him all the time."

"Hey, what the fuck, mate? You're not my father!" Matt interrupted. The pair of us laughed.

"You know we mean well, Matthew," I told him.

"Speak for yourself," Chris laughed. Matthew shook his head and tapped his foot impatiently.

"I'm going inside," he told us. "See you on Monday, Dom." He waved and I waved back from under the umbrella.

"Bye, Matt," I called after him as he turned to go upstairs to his flat. "See you around, Chris." Chris merely nodded in response. I sighed to myself and turned to walk back the way we'd originally come, making the journey back alone. As per usual.


	5. Chapter 5

On the following Monday, I was sat behind my desk tapping at the keyboard in front of me, when a hand appeared beside the screen. Long fingers with calloused tips stretched out across the wood, and I looked up, surprised, to see Matthew standing there. He smiled at me and handed over a bundle.

"Here're your clothes," he told me, and our fingers brushed as I took the bundle from him. I felt myself tense and told myself to calm down as I shoved them in my bag. "Thanks so much for letting me borrow them, Dom."

"That's quite alright, Matthew," I replied honestly. "How was your weekend?" He shrugged and wrote in the sign-in sheet.

"Uneventful as per usual." He glanced at the clock ticking on the wall. "I, um, I need to go to my lecture now, sorry. I'll see you soon or something, right?" I nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly.

"Yeah, sure! You don't want to be late." We both laughed lightly as he left the foyer and I sighed, squeezing my eyes shut. I heard a snigger from behind me and turned to see Julia smirking at me.

"He borrowed your clothes? So are you in a relationship yet or-?" she teased. I rolled my eyes.  _I wish._

"I texted you the other night. Nothing happened or anything, but it was pouring with rain so I let him borrow some of mine. Wouldn't want the boy to catch a cold or anything, would we?" She hummed.

"Yeah, that'd wouldn't be good. Colds are contagious, you know." I frowned at her as she turned back to her work, confused.

"What's that even supposed to-Matthew doesn't-Julia!" I exclaimed. All she offered me in returned was a giggle.

The day dragged on, and I found myself wondering whether he would come back and talk to me or not. I wasn't sure what I was expecting. He'd only said that he'd see me soon, so was soon later today or was soon just another time? Would he come and talk to me voluntarily or would he just wait until I rescued him from another weather crisis? It'd been so long since I'd had to make friends with somebody; I felt completely socially inept.

However, I was thankfully saved the anxiety when Matthew appeared, leaning against the wall when I got back from grabbing lunch for Julia and I. I paused where I was standing and then continued into the office past his small form, refusing to look Julia in the eyes.

"Hey, Dom," he greeted me.

"Hi, Matthew," I replied. "What are you doing here?" He shrugged.

"There's nothing else around here. I mean, if you don't want me here I can go to the library or something but I figured that, I don't know, after Friday, I mean, I thought we were friends and stuff so I thought well-" I cut off his adorable mumbling.

"No, no, seriously, it's fine! Better than fine. You should come in, take a seat." I gestured to the little wooden stool that was never used and tucked into my sandwich as Matthew pushed through the office door and plonked himself on the stool. Julia watched us both warily and, whilst Matthew was distracted by the many timetables lining the walls, mouthed, 'If you two try anything, I will kill you.' I scowled back at her, annoyed by her teasing when it couldn't be any more accurate when put against what I was hoping for.

"So, you have to monitor all of this and make sure everyone's where they should be?" Matthew asked, observing the noticeboard. I nodded as I swallowed my food.

"Sort of. We just have to make sure everything's running smoothly, keep records of students' presences and make sure the right people are in the right rooms," I explained, although it was a little more complicated than that.

"That sounds like a lot of hard work." I shrugged.

"Not really. Just your usual office job, you know."

"It  _is_  hard work," Julia interrupted. "If we do things wrong, the university will fall."

"Well, it's not quite-"

"Dom does a magnificent job monitoring everyone, making sure it all runs right and everybody's safe." I blushed, heat rising in my cheeks, and wondered what the hell she was playing at.

"It's very impressive," Matthew agreed. "I would've been late on the first day if it wasn't for you. How many kids do you think you save from the wrath of exhausted lecturers?" He grinned at me. I ducked my head, running a nervous hand through my hair.

"You guys make it sound a lot more heroic than it is, you know," I told them.

"Don't you think I'm heroic?" Julia asked, batting her eyelashes at me playfully. I snorted.

"You're more the damsel in distress type, I think. 'Oh, Dom, do you know where I put my handbag? Oh, this is a disaster! I can't go out without topping up my make-up!'" I put on an overly feminine accent as I mocked her, flapping my hands around like a child. I heard Matthew giggling in the corner as Julia gaped at me in mock outrage.

"And there was me being all nice to you! Honestly, next time you ask for help, you're not getting it." The giggles in the corner stopped immediately as we both turned to Julia, looking for answers.

"Help with what?" I asked, trying to laugh it off, even though I knew exactly what she was talking about and I also knew for sure that I hadn't once asked for her help. Matthew turned towards me and narrowed his eyes suspiciously but with, what I hoped, was a playful glint in his eye.

"Yeah, help with what?" he repeated.

"Oh, nothing," Julia sang innocently, turning back to her work. I sighed, trying to shake off the feeling that he was on to me. Was she trying to expose me to Matthew? Hadn't she realised that I was trying my best alone, and that I'd have to take it slow? He didn't seem the sort to rush into a relationship, especially not with somebody he barely knew. I returned to my lunch and Matthew remained lost in his thoughts for a moment.

"Hey, Dom, I was thinking, I mean, you know, you can do what you want, but uh well, I mean-"

"Just spit it out, Matthew!" I chuckled. His cheeks flushed the same pink as my socks.

"Well you see, my band is playing in a week or so, I was wondering, I don't know, if you wanted to come? There's going to be a bunch of different bands playing and there's some other stuff going on, I'm not too sure of the details, but uh..." He trailed off, looking at me with hopeful eyes.

"I didn't realise you were in a band! What do you play?"

"Oh, I guess I must've forgotten to mention it. It's with Chris and Tom, we just do covers and stuff, maybe a few original songs. I'm on guitar." I raised my eyebrows. Shy Matthew was going to get up on stage and play? The fact that he was willing to overcome his anxiety for the sake of the music had me nibbling at the inside of my cheeks to stop blurting out what I wanted to.

"Not vocals?" He cleared his throat nervously.

"Umm...no? Chris is a better singer than me, I-I wouldn't be able to do that." I bit my lip, remembering how lovely his voice had sounded when singing along to Queen the other night. Somehow I doubted that, but I guessed that Matthew would only do what he was comfortable with.

"Yeah, I'll be there. Sounds fun. I'd like to see you play." He returned my smile and I made a mental note of the date he gave me. It wouldn't be too hard to remember, seeing as it was my only social event in the foreseeable future. I tried to envision Matthew up on a stage in front of a bunch of uni kids playing the guitar. Was he any good? What sort of songs would they play? What was his stage persona like? I could feel myself getting excited already.

After a little chat, we bade each other goodbye, work calling me. In the week that followed, I saw bright posters dotted around the campus advertising the band night. Matthew visited me most lunch times and, thankfully, Julia decided to mind her own business, only adding something when it was relevant. I was beginning to think that I could call Matthew a friend.

The week passed surprisingly quickly, and I soon found myself standing in my room an hour before the gig, pondering over what I would wear. Was it just going to be kids, or would it be locals as well? My eyes caught on a pair of almost fluorescent yellow jeans that I'd tucked away at the back, not having an excuse to wear them for over a year. I pulled them out and dusted them down, trying them on. They were a little tight on the legs, but I seemed to have lost weight since the last time that I wore them, as the waistband didn't feel as tight as I remembered it to be. I also found a rogue black shirt falling out of the drawers and, after determining it to be not-too-gay, I tugged it over my head. After a quick dinner, a freshening up in the bathroom and a speedy comb through my hair, I was ready to leave.

The weather was cold but mercifully dry, so I walked to the hall it was situated in, my entrance fee and a little bit of extra cash jostling around in my pocket. I received a couple of odd glances from passers-by, my brightly coloured jeans standing out dramatically against the drab scenery. I heard the noise pumping through the air as I reached the hall, the sound of young adults dancing and partying to the DJ reminiscent of my first years out of high school. I put on a smile, paid my fee and entered the room. To my immense relief, I wasn't the oldest person there. Most of the dancers were too busy to notice me, so I stood at the edge of the room and scanned the scene, looking for Matthew. It was difficult to find him, his small stature making him disappear in the crowd, but we soon spotted each other across the room.

"You made it!" he cried, voice barely audible over the thundering noise. He looked genuinely surprised that I'd arrived.

"Of course!" I replied. "I couldn't miss it after I'd told you I would come." He ducked his head, scratching at his hair nervously. In the pulsing lights of the room, his skin looked even paler than usual. "You feeling okay?"

"Just a little anxious. We're first on, so we've got a lot to do, y'know?"

"Well, if it helps, I think they're all already in party mode."

"God, I hope they like the music." A voice called over the intercom and his eyes widened. "I've got to rush off now, oh god, oh  _god_." I saw him began to shake and laid what I hoped was a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I bet you'll be great. Go up there and raise the roof." He smiled meekly at me and then dove into the crowd, racing backstage. I made my way into the middle of the crowd forming in front of the stage. I saw Chris, who I remembered from Matthew's flat, enter the stage and pick up a bass guitar. Behind him came a slightly darker-skinned boy with a few days' stubble covering his chin, who made for the drums and gave the cymbal a quick smash as he sat down. And finally, skinny little Matthew. He picked up a battered guitar covered in masking tape, slinging the strap over his shoulder and moving further towards the front of the stage. I heard a few girls around me go, "Aww," and laughed.

"Hello, we're Badger's Eyebrow," Chris introduced the band. "We're gonna play a few songs now, we hope you like them." He pulled back from the microphone and glanced over at Matthew. I saw him visibly take in a deep breath as he began the first few chords to a song that, when Chris started to sing, I recognised instantly. As the Arctic Monkey's _Dancing Shoes_ erupted from the stage at an ear-splitting volume, the crowd surged forwards, people dancing and pushing into each other as the boys played.

I looked up at Matthew and barely recognised him. The dorky student I knew had been replaced by a cool guitarist who looked like he belonged on the stage. The contrast between his milky skin and his devilish dark hair, involuntarily spiked up due to him running his hands through it over and over, was made even clearer by the red tint of the lights. His feet were shoulder width apart and he commanded the guitar as if it was an extra limb, pounding out the tune like he was born to play. His height didn't seem to make a difference and as he began to dance, he seemed to tower over us. Black skinny jeans and a dark, button-down shirt made his sharp limbs look slender and elegant; the lights cast shadows under his cheekbones as he bit his lip, absorbed in the music. His face broke out into a smile as he took in the crowd and adjusted the microphone.

"The only reason that you came," both Matthew and Chris sang, to my great shock, "so what you scared for?"  _He told me he wasn't singing! Had he taken my advice?_ Either way, it was a pleasant surprise to see Matthew on backing vocals, and I recognised his melodic voice joining in with Chris' before he rocked back from his position at the mike to play a spontaneous riff, his fingers spidering up the neck of the guitar at breakneck pace.

The song was over too fast, and the crowd roared as Matthew yelled, "Cheers!" and began a new song. Nobody seemed to recognise it but they continued to dance, falling into the rhythm of the song easily. I simply gaped up at him. He was a completely different person on stage, almost as if the music had possessed him and breathed life into him. Awe-struck and in a party mood, I found myself jumping along with the hordes of students beside me. Badger's Eyebrow were going to be the next big thing, I just knew it. Never mind scientist, Matt could be a rockstar.

Matt's fingers expertly travelled along the strings, playing a meaty riff that seemed too fast to be true and doubly fat when Chris joined in on the bass. He leapt across the stage, letting Chris take charge of the vocals as he spun around, grinning at Tom in the background. The chorus arrived fiercely, Matt singing along despite not being by the microphone, punching the air between chords.

When the second verse was over, hysteria ensued, the audience joining in with the chants of, "I want you now!" as the band rocked their way around the stage, Matt almost knocking over the bass drum in the midst of his wild antics. As soon as the guitar solo that none of us had been expecting began, my mouth fell open. Sure, it needed a bit of work, and Matt's fingers occasionally slid a little too far, but nobody cared. I gaped up at the stage, captivated by the way his slim hips thrust obscenely into the body of the guitar in time to the drum beat, nodding his head as he played. I wondered briefly whether he was aware of the effects his 'dancing' could have, but the thought was dismissed as I saw him flash a wicked smile and wink at the crowd.

This was a Matthew to relish, a Matthew who was finally comfortable with who he was and didn't worry about putting up appearances. This Matthew was at home with the music. And, my God, he had never been more desirable.

He skipped across the stage as the final bars of the guitar solo came around, the chorus exploding and the venue threatening to topple over. I felt a blazing smile cross my face as Matthew caught my eye from the stage. I saw the sparkle as the lights brushed over his face, saw the excitement making his cheeks flush and felt ridiculously proud of this boy that I barely knew.

"Cheers, thank you very much. That was written by Matt, here, and it was called Hysteria, thanks," Chris announced in response to the crowd. Hysteria. What a perfect title. I bit my lip as I thought through various things I'd read in the past and masked the disappointment on my face, losing almost all hope that Matthew wasn't straight. Of course he was, with a song title like that.

They finished with a final, explosive song that I didn't recognise but thoroughly enjoyed anyway, and then left the stage to the catcalls and whoops of the crowd below. Matthew wriggled his way through the crowd towards me, the buzz from the show increasing his confidence and allowing him to thank those that complimented him on his amazing guitar skills. As soon as he reached me, I punched his shoulder lightly.

"You didn't tell me you could play like that!" I accused. "And write songs!" Matthew gave me a sheepish smile.

"Sorry? It's not  _that_  exceptional," he replied. I shook my head.

"You tell that to these guys." He laughed lightly.

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it. It was really great up there. We had fun."

"Yes, I could see that. Your stage antics are...a little wild, for a small band." That only made his cheeks darken.

"W-what do you mean?" I chuckled.

"Oh, don't act all innocent with me now! You know what I'm talking about."

"I'm afraid to say, Dom, I have absolutely no idea." Yet he still refused to look me in the eye.

"So what's Hysteria about then?" I would just have to get my revenge by watching him stumble over the meaning.

"Oh, it's about wanting someone that you can't have, you know? When it gets too much for you and you refuse to accept that you can't have them despite the fact that it's starting to physically hurt," he explained, not flustered in the slightest.

_Oh._

I don't know what was going through my head at that moment. Maybe it was how much the song suited my predicament. Maybe it was how oblivious Matthew was. Maybe it was my ridiculous hope that we could have something after all.

But probably not.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Matthew used his privileges as an adult to order drink after drink, being bought a few by passing fans of the band. I sat by him much of the time, not restraining him from going to talk to anybody else but not wishing him to leave, either. I watched carefully as he drank, counting how many glasses he must've had that evening. When I decided he looked tipsy enough to fall over, however, I stopped him from buying any more.

"Dom!" he whined. "C'mon, lemme have some fun." I rolled my eyes.

"I think that's enough for you, Mr Bellamy. You'll be sick otherwise," I told him, having learned from experience. "You should probably head home before all that alcohol decides it doesn't want to mix with your system." He didn't protest any further, letting me wrap a hand around his wrist and drag him out into the cool night air. We both took in a few refreshing gulps of it and I closed my eyes as I heard the thump of the music behind us, trying to focus on the sound of my breathing. I'd had one or two glasses of beer myself, but nothing to make me too out of character.

Matthew's flat wasn't too far from the hall, so I walked him back with my hands in my pockets, watching as he tried to avoid stumbling over cracks in the pavement. After a couple of near-misses, I kept my hands out to steady him and he moved closer to me. He fumbled for the key in his back pocket and unlocked the door to his flat. I stood in the darkness as he entered the hallway and then turned back to me.

"Are you coming in or what?" he slurred, eyes heavy. I shrugged and followed him over the threshold and up a flight of stairs, where he produced another key and flung the door open.

"Where's your room, Matthew?" I asked. He grabbed my hand, making his way clumsily to a door at the end of the narrow hallway and shoving it open. A single bed sat in one corner of the room, the covers made neatly and a stack of books resting on top. The wall was lined with posters, a calendar hanging above his bed beside a tour poster of Rage Against The Machine. Clothes were strewn across the floor, mingled with screwed up pieces of coursework and guitar tabs. A bedside table was completely covered with random items and an empty cereal bowl. Despite this, the room smelt relatively fresh and looked, in general, not too bad for a young adult's dorm room.

Matthew headed for the bed, pushing the pillows up against the headboard and sitting where they previously were so that he was leaning against them. He patted the space beside him and wiggled over so that I could sit down. I accepted his offer and tried to fit my bum into the space without falling off the edge. He giggled at me, reaching next to him to fiddle with a CD player. Soft piano music floated around the room and Matthew began tapping out what I presumed was the song on his thigh.

"This is beautiful," I commented, closing my eyes and leaning my head against the wall. He hummed his agreement.

"It's Chopin. I've been trying to learn it but I can't quite get it at the right tempo. It's just so jumpy. The right hand is far too fast for me when I'm trying to keep up with the left hand; it's almost as if he had three! Wouldn't it be wonderful to have three hands?" he mused, still 'playing' it, although I noticed his movements were sloppier than they should be.

"You play piano as well?" I asked incredulously, wondering just how many talents one boy could have. Surely there had to be  _something_  he wasn't good at, right?

"Yeah. I had lessons for a year but that was boring, so I just taught myself pieces that I liked. Unfortunately it means they're a lot harder to learn and it's more difficult to find decent piano tabs than guitar tabs." He sighed as if the whole world was suddenly shoved on his shoulders. We both fell silent and continued to listen, the track changing to something I recognised. I smiled happily, the light penetrating my closed eyelids so that all I could was a light crimson, exactly the same colour as Matthew's skin when he'd been performing under the lights earlier that night.

I felt a weight on my shoulder and my eyes fluttered open. Matthew had fallen to the side and rested his head sleepily on my shoulder, his dark hair brushing the sensitive skin of my neck. I swallowed, not wanting to wake him.

"You looked really nice tonight, Dom," he mumbled, almost incoherently but just enough for me to understand him. I felt my heart skip a beat. "Nobody else wears yellow jeans. S'nice." I felt him adjust his head, rubbing it against my collarbone, and froze. "Hmm, g'night, Dom." He smacked his lips together tiredly and closed his eyes again.

"Night, Matthew," I whispered, too shocked to form a proper sentence. I waited until I was sure that he was asleep before shifting slightly, moving his body further down the bed and putting the pillows back to rest his head on them. He turned over in his sleep, clutching the duvet in a tight fist. I glanced around for a blanket but found nothing, instead deciding to wrap him in the rest of the duvet. I left the room silently and searched for the bathroom, pulling open cabinets until I found a glass and some aspirin. I set the glass of water and two tablets on Matthew's beside table, fading out the music until the room was silent except for the mixed sound of our breathing. I ruffled his hair softly and flicked off the light as I left his room, closing the door behind me.


	6. Chapter 6

Please understand me when I say that I tried my best. When I arrived home that night, I had two choices. I could either take a cold shower, or I could deal with my problem by myself. As soon as the images from the night flashed through my mind, however, I knew that the cold shower probably wouldn't do the job.

I refused to think of Matthew. I wouldn't allow myself to. Even though he was, essentially, the reason behind my problem, I kept him out of my mind by thinking about what his face would be like if he knew what I was doing, knew  _why_  I was doing it. I thought that the earth would swallow me up if he ever found out.

But, even though I was successful at being as good as you can be in said situation, you could still say that I'd finally crossed the metaphorical Rubicon. If I were to make a graph showing the progression of my attachment to Matthew, there would be a huge arrow pointing right to that moment. And, unfortunately, I couldn't erase it.

I fell asleep soon after, still dressed in my clothes and sprawled out over the bed covers on my front. My dreams were filled with ashamed faces and the shouts of my mother, wagging a finger at me every time I tried to open my mouth. I awoke with my cheeks burning, squeezing my eyes shut as I remembered the night before. I hadn't drunk enough to even get a headache, but I stumbled downstairs and made a coffee to give myself some more energy. My trousers seemed far too tight to even be real so, whilst I was waiting for the kettle to boil, I pulled them off and chucked them into the washing machine, padding around the house in just my shirt and boxers.

I read the news as I drank my coffee, tutting to myself at the stories printed on the first few pages. There seemed to be so much hate in the world at the moment; it was almost as if everyone had lost all respect for the good things in life. The newspaper covered the usual stories of theft from the local shops, vandalism in the park and a few letters from angered residents, most of whom were over forty. I sighed when I read the one blaming the current generation. It wasn't fair that people were condemning all the youths in the area when some of them were lovely. Matthew was the first example that came to my mind, but I'd also met several pleasant young people in my time working at the university. The attitude people had towards those younger than them was appalling.

As I reached the advertising section, the phone rang shrilly. Surprised, I picked up the receiver and held it to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Hi, Dom, it's Matthew," the voice on the other end of the line greeted me.

"Matthew! Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough. Thanks for taking me home last night. And the aspirin and stuff. That was really kind of you." I smiled.

"It's nothing, Matthew, I was just being your friend." I heard a scuffle and wondered briefly whether Tom or Chris ever did that for him. By the sounds of it, this was a rare occurrence.

"Well, thank you. Listen, uh, are you busy today?" I felt my smile grow, hoping that I knew where he was heading with this.

"No, I don't have anything planned, why?"

"I was wondering if...listen, do you want to hang out or something?" My smile became a fully-fledged grin as he finished his question and I immediately started thinking through what I would wear. "I mean, if you're getting bored of me, we don't have to, because I know we've been hanging out quite a bit recently and I don't want to annoy you but I'd much rather talk to you than study." He made a noise of discontent and I laughed.

"That'd be great, Matthew, honestly. Where should I meet you?"

"Um...I don't know. What would you like to do?"

"I'm up for anything."

"Would you be able to come here and we could choose from there, maybe?"

"Yeah, that'd be fine." I balanced the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I took my coffee out into the kitchen and headed back upstairs. "I'll be there soon."

"Great!" he squeaked and I snickered, imagining his blush. "See you then."

"Yeah, see you." I placed the phone down on my bedside table and rushed into the bathroom to prepare myself.

Almost fifteen minutes later, I was locking the front door behind me and setting off for Matthew's flat. I had my umbrella clutched in my hand just in case we were caught out again, although the weather had been surprisingly dry for a few weeks now. I had quite a speedy pace, not wanting to keep Matthew waiting for too long. As I walked, I wondered what we could do this afternoon. Maybe we could go to a coffee shop and have lunch? Hang around and go shopping?

I shook my head to myself at the last suggestion, my inner shopper retreating again. Matthew probably didn't enjoy traipsing around the town like I did.

I arrived at his flat in good time and rang the doorbell. He bounded to the door and threw it open, seemingly in good spirits.

"Dom! Hey!" he greeted me, as if he hadn't already been expecting me. His smile was wide, eyes sparkling. "Come in, the sky looks a bit grey." I stepped in and followed him up the stairs that I'd climbed with him less than twelve hours ago. He unlocked the flat and invited me in.

"Tom didn't come home last night," he chuckled, "and Chris has gone to town with Kelly."

"Kelly?" I asked, frowning. He hadn't mentioned a Kelly before, had he?

"Yeah, his girlfriend..." His cheeks flushed pink. "Sorry, I must've forgotten to tell you. She rooms with us as well. They've been going out since they were fifteen or something, it's really sweet."

"And she lives with you guys here?" Matthew nodded and I bit back a laugh. Poor girl.

I found myself once again in Matthew's room whilst he made drinks in the kitchen. It looked cleaner than last night, as if he'd made an effort to clear up. There were no longer clothes strewn across the room and all his work was neatly piled up in the corner. I went to sit on the bed and found that I had nearly sat on an open book. I picked it up, feeling the leather binding on the outside and observing the pages on view. Each page had two Polaroid pictures on it, taped in with a piece of film over the top, probably to avoid getting fingerprints on the photos.

I spotted Matthew in the first photo easily. He couldn't be older than eleven, with cropped brown hair and a huge grin spread across his face. He was standing on a beach somewhere, his feet sinking into the wet sand. A bucket was hanging from his hand and water was spilling over the side and dripping down his legs. I smiled and looked at the next photo. A blonde man was running around through a field of tall grass, a skinny boy thrown over his shoulder. Matthew's hair was longer there, flopping down towards the ground as he dangled from the man's shoulder. His hands were flying out behind him and I could almost hear the childish giggles as he flew through the air.

I heard footsteps heading towards the room and quickly returned the book to its original position, realising that Matthew probably didn't want me snooping around his private photos. I made myself comfortable on the floor, crossing my legs, and accepted the glass of lemonade from Matthew when he entered the room. He placed his own glass on the bedside table and, just before he sat opposite me, shut the book and placed it on a shelf. My eyes followed it, wondering who the people in the photos were. The man hadn't looked anything like Matthew at all, and when I'd first looked, the woman there hadn't either. Besides, a nose like that was most definitely something passed down the generations.

"They're not my real parents," Matthew answered my unspoken question, sitting opposite me. He nodded at the shelf. "Just in case you wanted to know."

"I-I'm sorry," I stammered, realising that I'd been caught red-handed. The corners of his lips turned up.

"Don't be. It's my fault for leaving it out." He sipped at his drink, not taking his eyes off me.

"Do you mind me asking...who are they?"

"My foster parents." Short, fast and clipped. As if he wasn't going to say anymore. From the silence that followed, I didn't think he was. "I treat them as my parents, though. They're the closest I've got."

"I'm sorry," I repeated, and he gave a dry laugh.

"That's what everyone says." He turned away, then, and looked off into the distance. "I wonder how many actually mean it and how many just say it to be polite. 'Sorry' seems to have lost its meaning, don't you think?" He turned back to me, fixing me in his gaze.

"Sometimes. In certain situations, maybe, but a lot of people do mean it, Matthew.  _I_ mean it."

It was quiet for a moment as we both drank our drinks.

"I miss them," he said quietly, looking into his glass.

"Did you see them over the summer?" He nodded.

"I was there for a couple of weeks, but it's not quite the same, you know? Their son has moved out too and they're looking after a little girl at the moment, so they were quite busy with her. Not that I mind," he added hastily, "I'm glad that they're helping other people like they did for me, but I just want to...go back." He sighed wistfully.

"I know what you mean. It all seems too much sometimes, being an adult." He looked back up at me once again, but this time I held his gaze. His icy blue eyes searched my soul and I did my best to bare it to him. I didn't have anything to hide from him; he could take whatever he wanted from me.

"D'you ever feel like just giving up? Sometimes I wonder if it's all worth it, wonder what I'm doing with my life and what I'm even doing here, and it seems ridiculously futile. And then I feel worse because I have it so much better than others. It's just this endless cycle."

"Well, everybody has their own pain limits, you know? What is nothing to somebody else could mean the world to you, and vice versa."

"But I've been through worse. This isn't the roughest time I've had. I get annoyed at myself all the time because I seem so ungrateful when really I couldn't be more thankful for what I have." He stopped then, leaving me to think. Why had he been fostered? What had his life been like before then? Poor Matthew, dragged around different places all the time before he was settled. I hadn't had the best childhood either, but at least it had been stable for most of my growth.

"Matthew, you're always ever so polite, so thankful for even the slightest thing. I'm sure that your foster parents understand that. If I know you at all, I bet that you didn't stop saying, 'Thank You' for your whole time there." He blushed, ducking his head before shifting a little closer to me.

"I'm being stupid. I'm really sorry, Dom. I shouldn't have brought it up." He muttered to himself under his breath. I put a finger his chin and brought it up so that our eyes were level.

"Hey, don't worry about it. It's good to know what you're thinking. I like knowing about other people, and it's probably better that you don't keep it bottled up all this time. You can tell me anything, you know." He nodded and cleared his throat. I pulled back, the short distance between us suddenly registering.

"So, uh, what would you like to do today?" he inquired.

"What do you usually like to do?"

"I don't know, read or something?" I let my head fall to one side.

"Reading sounds good, if you want to do that?"

"Are you sure? I'm worried that I'm being too boring."

"Reading isn't boring! I read all the time, am I that boring?" I raised an eyebrow at him playfully and he laughed.

"Not in yellow jeans, you're not." I glanced down at today's outfit, my jeans and T-shirt ensemble the most normal thing I could find.

"I was going to a party! You've got dress up for a party.  _You_  were dressed up."

"I wouldn't say I was dressed up," he scoffed, reaching for his book. "Just trying to look...good, I guess."  _And, boy, did it work._  I stood up, stretching my legs, and ferreted through his collection of books. Instead of choosing something I was familiar with, I selected an odd looking book about scientific theories and sat back down with it, hoping I didn't have to be taking Physics to understand it. I saw Matthew's brief smirk as he saw what I was reading, and I peered at his cover.  _Macbeth._

"A bit of role reversal today!" I joked and he rolled his eyes.

"I've had this book for  _years._ "

We sat opposite each other in comfortable silence, both absorbed in the books. I was confused with mine by the first page but I carried on with it, interested in what it had to say. As the author was talking about string theory and the tenth dimension, my min wandered to all the other people who had picked up this book. How many had put it back down again after struggling through the first page and how many, like Matthew, had read it for fun?

I glanced over at him. He was staring down at the book on his lap, one hand resting on his neck and one holding the next page. He sighed deeply to himself as he turned the page, eyes following the words. I watched him closely, watching the way his eyelashes brushed together when he blinked, wondering what that intelligent brain was taking in from the story, whether it was affecting him or not.

Matthew sighed once more and suddenly snapped the book shut, placing it down beside him.

"Dom, I think..." he mumbled, but didn't continue his sentence, leaving me hanging on the end. I found myself unconsciously leaning towards him, discarding my own book, when he looked up and those icy blue eyes caught me in a trance. The way they were fixed on me, Matthew's full attention simply on myself, was enough to make me shiver.

"What?" I breathed, my heart pounding against my ribcage. I placed one hand on his knee, watching his tongue dart out to wet his thin lips as he looked down briefly and then back into my eyes. His legs shifted, as he repeated, "I think," still without an answer. Was he expecting me to finish it for him? To fill in the gaps? I knew there was only one way to find out.

I leaned the whole way forward, capturing his lips in mine, desperately hoping this was what he'd been aiming for, otherwise I'd made a fool of myself and my own hopes had been crushed. I felt his hand come to rest lightly on my shoulder and his lips pressed up against mine, causing them to turn up at the sides. My heart was beating double time, as I realised that I was actually  _kissing Matthew Bellamy_. And he was kissing me back. The hand resting on his knee moved up to cup his face, my thumb brushing his sharp cheekbones as he tilted his head to meet mine. My right hand twisted in his hair, letting the dark, silky strands filter through the gaps between my fingers, noting how soft they felt and wondering when he'd last had it cut. His own hands were in my hair, tugging gently to massage my scalp, twirling his fingers in the slight curls at the end where it was growing long.

I was the first to break away, only to move to his jaw to allow us a breather. I traced his sharp jaw line with my mouth, feeling him exhale shakily against my forehead, his breath fluttering on the flushed skin there. I returned to his lips, our tongues touching briefly, just a taster of what I could have from Matthew, just the slightest flavour, and yet it meant everything. It exploded on my tongue, the taste of this other person, this wonderful person, and I closed my eyes and hummed gently, kissing him back softly but with purpose.

The hand on his cheek slid down his skinny frame and rested on his back between his shoulder blades. I could feel the sharp bones sticking out through his thin white T-shirt as he leaned towards me, could feel the warmth radiating from his back, hear his breathing ever more clearly as he broke away to flick his tongue gently at my ear.  _How did he know?_  My brain screamed as I shuddered, the sensitive skin tickled with perfect precision.

And then, just as I thought my knees would turn to jelly, just when I was worried I would have to grab a pillow, he pulled away, one hand still resting on my shoulder, the other falling to his side, and he simply appraised me with those sharp eyes. I felt hot under his gaze and wondered, not for the first time that morning, what he could possibly be thinking.

Needless to say I gave a great sigh of relief-silent, hopefully-when his lips twitched into a smile.

"I'm glad we're on the same page," he murmured, his voice a little bit lower than usual due to his slightly mussed state, his hair sticking up in various different directions. I bit my lip, feeling the lingering warmth there and sighed, closing my eyes shut as Matthew rested his head on my shoulder next to his hand. Had that just happened? I struggled to process it as I thought through the past few minutes. He was okay with it. He didn't pull back. He  _wanted_  this.

I hid the huge grin I was sporting in his fluffy hair, feeling his fingers grip my shoulder.

"Dom, I-" he whispered after a few minutes, and I wrapped an arm around his torso, tugging him tighter to my chest.

"Yes, Matthew?" I asked just as quietly.

"I-I don't know what came over me, I'm sorry, I just...I mean, I, uh..." My heart sank as he stammered his way through his apology, knowing what was going to come. 'I just wanted to try out kissing a guy, I just wanted to see what it felt like, with the way you were just looking at me, you can only blame yourself.' I'd heard it all before and wandered home in pain every time.

"It's just...I think you looked really great last night and I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have invaded your personal space like that but you just looked...I don't know how to explain it, I really don't, I just...I just wanted to kiss you so much," he blurted, his voice wavering at the end as he clung to me. My eyes widened, taken aback as I realised I wasn't being rejected.

"You mean...you meant that?" I whispered.

"Of course I meant it! As a general rule, I only kiss someone if I think that...well, I haven't kissed many people, to be honest. I just...listen, if you don't want this then that's fine, really, it is." He pulled back from me, his face fallen. I could feel my eyes were as wide as saucers.

"What makes you think that I wouldn't want this? Matthew, I can't believe you didn't realise! I thought I was being too obvious, I-"

"When Julia said that she was helping you. I wondered if that meant what I thought it meant and I knew it was stupid and self-centred of me to think such a thing but I was just sort of  _hoping_." I drew him back to me again.

"You are so silly sometimes, Bellamy. Honestly, you think I wouldn't want this?"

"I'm a stupid, bumbling mess, Dominic. Why would you want this?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

 


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of the morning was spent reading, squashed up together on Matthew's bed. He had his head tucked in the crook of my neck and resting lightly on my shoulder, and I played idly with his hair as I progressed further into the book. Cheerful guitar music was playing in the background, the singer mumbling about revisiting his home town, and I found myself tuning out. The feeling of my fingers twisting in Matthew's soft locks was soothing and almost hypnotising, and I found my eyes drooping after a while.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Dom!" Matthew cried. "I must be boring you, I'm really sorry."

"No, no," I mumbled, forcing my eyes open, cheeks flushed. I hadn't realised that I'd been so close to falling asleep and therefore not even considered how rude I must've seemed. "I'm just quite tired, is all."

"Oh, okay." He lowered his eyes so that they were hidden behind thick, dark lashes. "Would you like something to eat, maybe? I know I'm quite hungry but I don't know whether we have much in the flat."

"Well, let's have a little look around and, if not, we could go out for coffee or something, yeah?" I suggested, sensing that I'd have to take more of a lead with Matthew. He nodded eagerly and pulled me up from the bed, his slim fingers lacing with mine. I felt a smile creep across my face as I glanced down at our intertwined hands.

He led me to their shared kitchen, flinging open a few cupboard doors and pouting when they only revealed cereals and biscuits. He shook his head at me sadly, apologising for his lack of food, and I shrugged.

"I know this lovely place on the edge of town. We could go there, if you'd like to."

"Uh, sure," he spluttered. "Yeah, that sounds nice." Pulling a double-breasted coat from a hook on the wall, he slipped it on and buttoned it up, snuggling into the warmth. He cut a striking figure in the coat, his skinny angles softened but his general slimness highlighted by the shape of the fabric. All he needed was a striped, woollen scarf, and then he'd look almost like a businessman heading out to work on a chilly winter's morning. Except for the grin of glee, of course, revealing a crooked tooth and crinkles around his sparkling eyes.

I made to take his hand once again and then suddenly pulled back, remembering myself.

"What's wrong?" Matthew inquired, looking up at me with wide eyes.

"Nothing, I just...we should probably be careful out in public. If people see us too much, they'll get suspicious."

"And is there anything wrong with that?" He raised a perfectly formed eyebrow at me, as if he could see through me to where even I couldn't access. "Surely there's nothing wrong with our relationship? This isn't a teacher/student thing, Dominic. It's worker and learner. We're both of age and we don't technically work together. I don't know about you, but that makes for a fine relationship in my eyes." I struggled to find the words to reply as my mouth went dry, knowing my own reasons for not wanting to hold his hand outside but realising how stupid it was. I couldn't keep hiding from my parents forever, and they knew already. It was just a sense of trying to keep them happy and compromising, but I realised then that I didn't care. Matthew was worth more to me than my parents already; I wasn't going to risk this relationship because I was trying to appease them.

I grabbed his hand back again and he tilted his head towards me in question, but I offered him no explanation, instead leading him out of the flat and down to the street.

The coffee shop I'd mentioned was a frequent haunt of mine over the summer and pretty much the whole of my life. I'd started going there after school when I was a teenager, as I'd found it a safe haven to hide from both kids at school and my parents. Plus, they did they best hot chocolates. I visited so often that I became a regular customer, and I got on fairly well with most of the workers there. When I left school and managed to wrangle my way into a relationship, I often brought my boyfriends-to-be here on our first few dates, just to see if they'd like the place. None of them had ever seemed to find the same love affair with it that I had, but they certainly appreciated the beauty of such a place.

I knew, however, that Matthew would love it. The place was warm and friendly, with the aroma of coffee softly curling through the air. Quiet chatter could be heard from all edges of the room and a fire crackled slowly in the corner, giving a golden glow to what would've been a dim room. The counter had a clear, glass lid, beneath which several different cakes and biscuits were displayed, all perfectly iced and tempting me from above. The workers always had their best, sunny smiles on and were happy to serve every time, although I had often wondered whether I got frequent customer's benefits.

I dragged Matthew into the coffee shop, his hand warm in mine, and grinned at the girl standing behind the corner. She flashed me a nervous smile and I realised that I didn't recognise her; she was probably a new worker and therefore had no idea who I was. I bit my lip and gestured to the counter.

"What would you like?" I asked Matthew.

"I don't know. Everything looks delicious, I can't choose," he remarked, scanning the delights under the glass and nibbling at the skin on his bottom lip until the colour had all drained out.

"My personal favourite is the blueberry muffin, just so you know. They do really great cakes and stuff here." He nodded at my recommendation and gravitated from the biscuits to the cakes, poring over the choices. After a few moments of drumming his long fingers on the glass, he mumbled something to himself and then glanced up at me.

"What are you getting?" he wondered. I tilted my head to the side. "You aren't getting the same as you always do, are you?" His tone suggested that he was expecting something different from me, but a smile was flickering at the corner of his lips as I shrugged at him.

"But I like the muffins!"

"You should try something else for a change! You never know what you might find if you don't at least try." That was very true. I briefly wondered if there was some deeper meaning to Matthew's words, thinking back to only an hour ago when his face was beneath my hands, and sighed to myself, taking another look at the counter.

"Okay, okay. I'm probably going to get the shortbread as I've always fancied the look of that." He laughed softly.

"Wise choice." I raised an eyebrow to hide my nervousness, suddenly wondering whether he'd been here before and I'd been acting like a prat.

"And how would you know?"

"Because that's what I chose as well." His grin widened, splitting his face.

"Great minds think alike," I recounted, although I didn't doubt that Matthew's mind was capable of much more than my own.

We wandered over to the young girl, whose name was Tina, and I greeted her cheerily. She told me that she'd only been here for two weeks, which would explain why I hadn't seen her before, and I ordered our shortbread along with two hot chocolates. As the chocolate was being poured into the mugs, Matthew tugged on my sleeve. I glanced down to see him widening his eyes almost comically at me, doing his best puppy-dog impression. I sighed at him with a smile.

"Yes?" I inquired, fully aware of what he was trying.

"Could we get cream on the hot chocolate?" His voice was small and childlike and I wondered where the sudden change in demeanour had come from. Sometimes he seemed ever so confident and sure of himself, and other times it was almost as if retreated into a little shell. I couldn't work him out at all.

"Of course!" I leaned over the counter to where Tina was preparing the drink. "Excuse me, could we get cream on the hot chocolates as well, please?"

"Sure," she replied brightly. "Would you like marshmallows or something?" I didn't even need to look at Matthew's face to know that he was shooting me a hopeful grin.

"Go on, then." She squirted a hefty amount of cream on top of both of our drinks, plopping two large marshmallows in and sliding them over the top of the counter. I pulled some cash from my wallet and handed it to her, taking the drinks over to a table. Matthew nipped to the side and got the cinnamon container, pouring a hefty amount into his drink and handing it to me. My brow furrowed, curious as to what it would taste like, and I tipped a little of the spice into my own drink before Matthew took it back.

He returned, sliding into the seat opposite me and stirring the cinnamon into his chocolate. He lifted the mug to his lips, blowing over the surface of the drink, before taking a long sip. He put the cup back down, exhaling with satisfaction. His upper lip was framed by a thin line of whipped cream and I hid behind my drink so that he didn't see my wicked grin. He continued to drink his hot chocolate, the cream growing thicker and Matthew ever more oblivious. After a moment, however, I was still awkwardly holding my mug in front of my face, no longer able to conceal my laughter.

He frowned at me, eyebrows knitted together as he scanned the room, searching for what I was laughing at. This only made me laugh harder, other customers noticing his moustache and chuckling at him.

"Okay, what's up?" he finally demanded, looking worried at the attention.

"You, erm," I told him between laughs, "you have a cream moustache." He reached his hands up to touch his upper lip, pouting when his fingers met the cream there. I burst into full blown laughter at the expression on his face as he tried to lick it off, his tongue straining to reach the corners. Unable to take it anymore, I reached over the table and leaned in towards him, pressing my lips to the corner of his mouth and kissing away the remaining cream. When I pulled back, his face was flushed pink and he ducked his head to stare into the mug. I continued to drink, staring out of the window and watching the people go by. I wondered if they were happy, what their life stories were and whether they'd had a day this great. I highly doubted it.

"So, do you come here often?" Matthew asked me, and I turned back to face him.

"Pretty often. I haven't been in a few weeks, because the beginning of the new year has been pretty hectic, but I was here at least twice a week over the holidays." I felt my cheeks heat as I admitted my true loser tendencies to him, shrugging.

"It seems really cosy here. I would've appreciated a coffee shop like this when I was younger, but they didn't have any where I'm from. Maybe they do now, I don't know."

"If you don't mind me asking, where is...there?"

"Various places, really. But I spent most of my teenage years in Devon. I was moved around quite a lot before then."

"They didn't have coffee shops there? I always thought Devon was full of them."

"It is. There's a shop like this on every street, but they're always crowded because everyone knows about them. All the tourists go there to get cream teas, and the old women like to hang out and have a natter. There was never a place for the kids to go, you know? If I'm being honest, I thought that it really sucked, but I liked it too much at home to care."

I nodded, taking in all that he was saying. What had his home life been like? He'd told me earlier on that he got along well with his foster parents, and from the photos I saw, I presumed that he'd been with them for a long time. It surprised me that he hadn't been adopted with how long he'd been there, but maybe they just felt that was more responsibility. I had no idea what had gone on with him.

We finished our drinks and shortbread silently, except for a few comments on how tasty everything was. Matthew had been right; I really did enjoy the shortbread, although it still didn't quite beat the blueberry muffin. Shortbread had always been a grandmotherly sort of thing for me, but the way it crumbled in my mouth and melted away definitely wasn't bad. Not at all.

When we were done, Matthew slurping up the last dregs of his hot chocolate, we tucked the chairs in and left. Instead of heading straight home, Matthew took my hand again and ambled in the other direction. We wandered through the streets, making small talk, until we reached the river that met the main part of the town. We found a small park and sat down on a bench, brushing off any lingering rainwater and leaning into the wooden slats. At first, Matthew perched himself on the edge, but I encouraged him over towards me. He shuffled up until our thighs touched and curled into me, resting his head on my shoulder, and I slung an arm around him, exceptionally comfortable. The position seemed natural to me but, as I thought about what it might look like to passers-by, I couldn't help but notice how quickly the relationship was developing. Did I really have my arm around him in a public park? Did he kiss me this morning? Was I ready for this?

Something told me that such a swiftly moving relationship could only be bad.

"I know what you're thinking," Matthew mumbled into my shoulder.

"Oh really? And do you have a solution?" I asked him.

"Sure. You must've read Romeo and Juliet, right?" I paused, turning my head to try and look at him but only meeting a shock of dark hair.

"Matthew, Romeo and Juliet both killed themselves."

"I know that. But we won't be that stupid. It's just to prove that they fell in love quickly, so maybe...I don't know, maybe this isn't a stupid fling like you think."

He fell silent as I mulled over what he had said. I ignored everything that told me Romeo and Juliet were never in love, not needing to analyse the text just to prove something to Matthew. Greater questions were at hand, such as how on earth he'd known exactly what I was thinking. And what was all that about 'in love'? Surely he didn't think it was that serious, right? It seemed plausible enough, as I'd learned from experience that love didn't wait for anybody, but I was still dubious about how serious this all was. However, if Matthew was willing to treat it as something as important as love, then so was I. After all, wasn't I the one who'd been admiring him from afar this whole time?

I tightened my arm around him, hearing his muffled noise of appreciation in my coat. I rubbed circles into his back, Matthew's fingers curling in the thick material.

"I'm definitely liking this change," I mumbled to myself, Matthew lifting his head from my shoulder to smile drowsily at me.

"I'm liking it far too much," he stated simply, "and I think we should go back to the flat to finish off from where we started."

The temptation was too much to resist. I leapt up from the bench, grabbing his hand and yanking him back up with me. It was quite a long walk back to Matthew's flat, during which he never failed to entertain me with silly stories and anecdotes about his flatmates. I felt like I knew them already, despite having spoken to them all of one time. When we reached the flat, Matthew fumbled for his keys in his pocket and let us in, the pair of us suddenly wondering if anybody else was home.

We were safe, however, Matthew finding a note stuck to the fridge.

"Tom's gone to a mate's house," he told me, crumpling up the note and flinging it into the recycling bin, "and I presume Chris and Kelly are still out. God knows what they're doing."

He weaved his way back to his bedroom and I followed him, hands shoved deep into my pockets as I wondered what exactly he was planning. There was only so far I'd consent to going, and I highly doubted that he was very experienced in the way of dating. Not that I didn't think he could pull it off, I myself finding him too attractive to be bearable, but he was too shy to play the field much.

Matthew was sprawled across his bed with his eyes closed when I reached his bedroom, and I placed my hands on my hips.

"If you just dragged me back here so that you can sleep, I could always leave," I told him, lips pursed. His eyes flew open and he sat up impossibly quickly, grabbing my hand and pulling me down onto the bed.

"So, Dominic," he purred, running his hands down my torso, azure eyes flashing at me. I could feel his touch through my thin shirt, shuddering beneath his fingers.

"Matthew," I whispered, his lips suddenly on mine, my hands automatically finding his waist to keep him in place. His body moulded to mine, fluid against me, and his lips were constantly moving. He never stayed still, not even when he broke away to breathe, his lips then finding my jawline. I felt my eyes flutter closed as he peppered my skin with kisses, not having been treated like this for far too long.

"I think," he murmured against my skin, "having a boyfriend," he pressed a kiss to my nose, brushing my fringe out of my eyes, "is going to be incredibly fun."

"Is that what I am? Your boyfriend?" He shrugged at me, and I could feel the movement from where my hands were still resting on his waist.

"If you want to be." I met his lips with my own again, fingers sliding into his hair and hoping this would be a good enough answer, because I certainly couldn't find the will to keep my hands off of him any longer.

 


	8. Chapter 8

It had been a few days since our coffee shop trip when I next saw Matthew. I'd been working hard in the office during the first couple of days after the weekend, and Julia and I had decided to swap jobs for the remainder of the week. As I was returning from the water dispenser with two full cups, I saw her leaning across the desk with a huge grin. A young kid was resting his elbow on the side and chatting animatedly with her, and she laughed suddenly. Avoiding dropping the water, I stepped into the office and placed the cups on her desk.

"Chatting up the kids?" I teased her, slipping into the seat beside her and returning to my work at the computer.

"I thought that was your job!" she retorted jokingly. "Matthew's been waiting for you."

I jumped, glancing up to see that Matthew was, indeed, standing there with a playful smirk on his face. I immediately felt a blush creeping up my cheeks.

"Oh! I didn't see you there, sorry. I'm exhausted." He waved it off nonchalantly.

"I was having a nice chat with Julia, here, so no worries," he explained, and I gave a relieved sigh, only to suddenly sit up straight again.

"Chat about what?" I asked, suspicion leaking into my voice.

"Oh, just normal stuff," she told me, working hard to look blasé. I raised an eyebrow. "I didn't tell him any of the hot gossip, though. Figured I'd leave that for you, although you might've given it to him already."

Unlikely.

"Hot gossip?" Matthew interrupted. "Go on, I'm intrigued now." Julia giggled to herself, placing one hand over her rosy lips.

"Well, I probably shouldn't tell you but-well, Dominic seems to really like you," at this I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth, fully aware of Matthew grinning at me, "so I guess he won't mind sharing that his old boyfriend used to like it when he dre-" I cut her off, leaping into her chair.

"Yes, okay, let's leave this story for another time!" I exclaimed, my words tumbling out in the urge to cover up my past. No use telling embarrassing stories to a new partner, right? I'd worked hard to give off the best impression; I didn't want Matthew thinking that was all a ruse. I really did care for him, and I really did want him to think the best of me. I wasn't sure what I'd do if I let something slip and he decided he was too disgusted to stay with me. Not that I had any terrible skeletons in my closet, but my past relationships, both romantically and not so much, were rocky terrain.

Matthew narrowed his eyes at me.

"You're going to tell me this story sooner or later," he informed me, a determined glint in his deep blue eyes.

"His most ticklish spot is under his arms!" Julia piped up before I could talk over her again, and I sighed in defeat, knowing that a fight was useless.

"I'll make a note of that," Matthew laughed, running a hand through his hair. Despite myself, a tiny thrill of excitement ran through me. "Listen, Dom-"

"Ooh, we're on nickname terms, are we?"

"Shut up, Julia," I growled.

"More than that," Matthew answered her, with a wink. She looked taken aback, eyes wide.

"Oh, really? Go on, then, details." Matt shook his head, lips sealed. "Come on, Matt! I gave you that tip about Dom. You can at least tell me how far you've gone in exchange." I noticed Matthew's lips twitch at the shortening of his name, but he chose not to comment. I, for one, shot Julia a furious glare.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She pouted at him and he just chuckled.

"I'm going to be giving you a good grilling when he's gone," she grumbled, looking pointedly at me.

"Julia, he's just a kid," I hissed. "It's not like there's any juicy gossip. I'm not like that anymore." She rolled her eyes.

"Everything is juicy gossip, darling, you just have to realise it." I groaned, throwing my head back, and then became aware of my position on the edge of Julia's chair. Moving back to my original position, I directed my gaze back to Matthew. He was staring into space and I watched his face curiously, wondering what had caught his attention so. After an awkward minute, however, I cleared my throat, Julia's 'silent' laughter still as audible and irritating as ever.

"So, uh, you wanted something?" Startled, he turned to look back at me, cheeks tinged pink.

"Uhm, yeah. Yeah, I did. I was wondering if, maybe, you wanted to have lunch together or something?" He shrugged, palms out as if inviting me to take them. I felt a smile spread across my face, our small separation making me eager to talk to him.

"That'd be lovely!" He looked relieved, which surprised me. Did he really think I'd reject him?

"Great. Uhm, I'll meet you here at lunch, then?" I nodded and he nodded back. We were caught like that for a moment before Matthew laughed nervously, scratched the nape of his neck and then waved at me. I watched him walk off, the plain black trousers unflattering on what I knew to be slim legs.

Not like that. I know what you're thinking, and you're just as bad as Julia.

Who, now that I mention her, was tittering in the corner of the office.

"You're going on a lunch date!" she squealed. "You two are so sweet."

"And  _you_ are so ridiculous!" I exclaimed as soon as I knew Matthew was out of earshot. "We've known each other for a handful of weeks; what do you expect to happen? You know that I'm not who I was!"

"I was teasing, Dom," she replied softly, her demeanour changing with a blink of her eyes as she laid a hand on my forearm. I jerked it away and she frowned. "You know that I'm only joking. I mean, I am interested in your relationship, as your friend, but I'm not going to interfere if you don't want me to." I squeezed my eyes shut and gave a deep sigh.

"I just don't want to mess this one up."

"You really do like him, don't you?" I nodded, exhaling shakily and running a hand through my hair.

"He's just...delicate. I feel like if I make a single wrong move I might accidentally break him or push him away without meaning to. It's so early on that I still can't be sure how he's feeling." She paused and we both turned back to our work.

"Have you kissed yet?" she asked after a little while, a smile creeping into her voice.

"Yes," I mumbled, flushing a deep rose.

"And? What was it like?" Her voice was sing-song with underlying tones of true interest and I rolled my eyes, reminding myself of our weekend date. I remembered the way Matthew's thin lips slid against mine, shocks sent down my spine as slender fingers danced along my skin, his legs tensing around my own ever so slightly as we rolled on his bed.

"Nice." I scratched the back of my neck, willing myself to focus on the work as my cheeks heated further.

"Right. Just nice, hey? Do you think Matt would agree?"

"I have no idea what Matthew felt about it at all. I think he liked it, if I'm reading him right, but you never know. He strikes me as the type that wouldn't tell you if things were going wrong until the critical moment."

Matthew's social tendencies, or lack thereof, had become extremely clear to me even over this short period of time. He mumbled and shuffled his feet when talking to people, unable to look most in the eye. I hadn't missed the relieved sigh when I ordered our drinks at the cafe. And yet, he was still incredibly comfortable dancing around on a stage. Even at such an early age, the boy was already confounding me.

"I guess I'll just have to ask him myself," she told me with a cheeky wink. My eyes widened with alarm.

"Wait, what? No, you won't. Don't even go there, Julia." 

"Dom, trust me, it'll be a lot easier for you if you know what he's thinking."

"Julia, you just-" I cut myself off and shook my head, holding my hands up in defeat. "Fine. Go ahead." She squealed with delight and clapped her hands together.

"Ooh, I can't wait to get to know this boy that you're so addicted to!"

She left me mulling over her final words for the rest of the morning. Was I really addicted to Matthew? Sure, I loved to see him, but it wasn't like I couldn't go a day without him. Although, having said that, I was thinking about him quite a bit. A lot, in fact. Maybe all the time.

Lunchtime crawled around and I found myself eagerly anticipating Matthew's arrival at the desk. I knew our lunch date wouldn't be anything exceptional, probably just buying a sandwich in the university's cafe where I'd spotted him reading a book those few weeks ago, but I was still looking forward to seeing him.

I drummed my fingers on the desk impatiently, adjusting my tie, opening and closing and reopening computer windows as I waited for him to arrive. I could see Julia smirking at me in my peripheral vision but I ignored her, instead peering into the hallway to see if Matthew was appearing any time soon. Either his lecture was running over or he'd just forgotten about me. I felt panic rising in my bloodstream as I considered this possibility. He had seemed worried that I might've turned him down earlier, so I'd automatically assumed he was as eager to see me as I was him. But if that wasn't the case? I'd gotten myself caught up in something irreversible, it would seem.

Nearly ten minutes later, Matthew came rushing around the corner and skidded to a stop in front of the desk. He looked flustered, his hair flopping messily over his face and his shirt rumpled, but I felt a wide grin spreading across my face anyway.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, Dom!" he cried. "I needed to speak to the professor at the end of the lecture about some work I was doing on my thesis and I didn't realise how quickly time was passing. I'm so,  _so_  sorry!" I bit my lip to rein in my laughter.

"Hey, no worries," I said. "Do what you need to do. I don't want to risk jeopardising your education."

"Does this mean we might have to cut our time short? I've got all afternoon but, uh, do you have a timetable thingee or something? For your shifts?" I frowned and turned back to Julia with an unspoken question.

"Of course I'll cover for you, Dom," she answered. "I'll just take my payment in the form of a little chat with young Matthew here later on." Matthew balked and shot me a frantic look.

"If you traumatise him..." I left my threat unspoken as I exited the office, giving Julia a wave as I walked over to Matthew. He gave me a small smile, and glanced down to where our hands swung, linking them together. I could almost feel Julia's stare, but I didn't care.  _There is nothing we need to worry about,_  I reminded myself.  _Just because he's younger than you doesn't make this relationship weird. Just because he's a student and you work for him doesn't mean that you could get punished for this. Three years is a perfectly suitable age gap and, as long as you're both happy, this relationship will work._

Having reassured myself, I squeezed his hand tighter and swung our arms as we left the building. It only registered that we weren't heading for the uni's cafe after all when the cold wind hit me fully in the face. After brushing my hair behind my ears and making a mental note to get it cut, I turned to Matthew with a curious glance. I didn't even need to ask where we were going before he tapped his nose and grinned, his crooked front tooth poking through between red lips. I bit my lip, unsure whether it would be okay to kiss him in public yet, and instead decided to strike up some conversation.

"So, how was your lecture?" Matthew groaned.

"Not on anything I'm interested in, for once. He just spoke about trying to get up to speed with all the work he wants in by the end of term, which I've already done. I nearly fell asleep, I'll admit." I chuckled.

"That's exactly why I chose not to go. I didn't really fancy being taught by some poncy guy with a doctorate stalking about the stage and spewing information at us. School was bad enough, but there didn't appear to be any connection between students and teacher here. It wasn't for me." Matthew looked up at me with wide, inquisitive eyes.

"What were you like in school?" I smirked.

"Awful."

"I don't believe you."

"I dropped out of college because I got bored of A Levels. I was always talking back to the teachers and flirting with all the straight guys in my class just to rile them up. It was a laugh until they started to crack down on me for not doing any work." Matthew shook his head with shocked disbelief.

"I can't imagine you like that. You seem so...sensible." I chuckled deeply.

"Ah, Matthew, you have so much to learn. It seems your view of me might be a little, uh, distorted." This would have been the perfect time to reveal my tendencies that Julia had been talking about earlier, but I was too afraid of scaring Matthew away to bring up the subject. I would just wait until he asked me about it himself before I divulged my secrets.

"Looks like you'll have to teach me. I'm a willing student." He paired his statement with an angelic smile, his sky-blue eyes shining with innocence. I pulled my hand from his to run it over my face, hiding my grin once again. _Oh, Matthew, I would teach you everything you wanted me to._

"You'll have to make an appointment. My calendar's quite full at the moment. Seems like everybody wants Dominic to teach them."

"You must be the best around." I dropped the game to smile at him.

"I wouldn't quite go that far, but I know a fair amount. I've had enough experience to know that you're spending your twenties the wrong way," I admitted, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Oh yeah? And what should I be doing with my time?" I imagined Matthew sat at a desk, poring over his physics work until the early morning, neck clicking as he rolled his shoulders and desperately tried to get some sleep. And then I remembered why I myself had had such sleepless nights when I was his age, and the two seemed incomparable.

I leaned down close to whisper to him, my lips touching the cool shell of his ear as I said, "You have to prove you're up to it before I can teach you these things." He stiffened, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed audibly.

"Oh yeah?" He sounded short of breath, and I smirked, a weakness already marked into my brain for future reference. If I could make him like this with just a few words, who knew what could happen.

"Mm-hm. You can't go diving in head first if you're not ready. You might get scared."

"I'm willing to take a risk." I moved away, the fresh scent of his shampoo overwhelming me when I was that close. I wanted to bury my face in his fluffy hair and hold him until the day ended, and pulling away was the only way I could avoid embarrassing us both in public. I noticed a sparkle in his eyes as he turned to face me once again, guiding us down an unfamiliar road. "When can we start?"

"The beauty of it is: we've started already. You just haven't recognised it yet but, oh, will things heat up in just a few short weeks."

"And that takes us to... the beginning of December. Any particular reason for that, Dominic?" I paused, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles as I thought to myself. Oh yes, things were definitely going to speed up a bit from here, if I had anything to do about it. A plan was already forming in my mind, and all I had to hope was that Matthew was willing to co-operate. I was getting tired of waiting for him to come to me, so I decided to take some action. 

How I wished December would come sooner.


	9. Chapter 9

The next week was much the same as the previous. Matthew and I occasionally popped out during the day to get lunch somewhere, either in the university cafe or at a local haunt of mine. Julia had kept fairly quiet about her 'chat' with Matthew, but I knew she was plotting something. There was no way she would be this silent unless she was thinking through something a lot. I could only shudder to think what she had planned, and was beginning to concoct my own ways of keeping them from being alone together.

Matthew seemed to enjoy holding my hand in public, taking pride in its weight in his and rubbing his fingers over my knuckles. He was always smiling when he was around me, the faintest touch of colour resting on his cheeks. I loved to be around him, too, his conversations more interesting and stimulating than any other I could happen to come across. The way he treated me made me feel so special, more than I had done in quite some time. It was exhilarating to have him appear suddenly at the desk and take me out, whisked off into the sunset by my awkward physicist in shining armour.

The following Friday, I had barely packed my work into my bag before Matthew was leaning against the desk. I was startled to see him there, knowing he didn't have late lectures on Fridays, and stood for a moment, blinking at him stupidly.

"Hey, Dom," he giggled, clicking his fingers in front of my face. I shook my head, a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth.

"Hello, Matthew. And how are you?"

"Very well, thank you for asking. It has been such a long time since we last saw each other." He sighed dramatically and I heard Julia snort from somewhere behind me.

"What brings you to my wonderful abode?" I zipped up my bag and slung it over my shoulder, observing Matthew's face as I arranged my hair into position.

"I was wondering if you might like to join me for the walk home."

"Why, that would be splendid! I would love to walk home with you, Matthew."

"Spiffing!" The word fell apart as he started to laugh, holding one hand to his face and squeezing his eyes shut. I couldn't help but smile.

"I'll see you on Monday, yeah, Julia?" I called out to her.

"Um, yeah, sounds good, Dom." I walked over to the door and, with my hand tugging it open, she added, "Are you doing anything this weekend?"

I glanced over at Matthew and he shrugged at me, tilting his head to the side.

"Not that I'm aware of," I replied slowly. "Why?"

"I was..." She was unusually soft-spoken, and I frowned at her, "I mean, I just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out or something. I'm not doing anything either so..." I paused and turned to Matthew again.

"Are you doing anything tomorrow?" I asked him quietly. He shook his head. "Yeah, Julia, I'd love that. But, listen, could Matthew come as well?" I watched him as I asked, and he bit back a small smile.

"Yeah, sure," she answered me tightly, still not reappearing from her hiding place. She seemed weary, which was a little out of character for her, but I took her confirmation as a good sign.

"Fantastic! I'll call you or something and we can arrange what to do, yeah?"

"Yeah, whatever." I called out one last goodbye and left the office, meeting Matthew around the front of my desk and linking our hands together. He swung them happily as we set off for our little jaunt.

"Do you hang out with Julia a lot?" he inquired after a few minutes of peaceful walking. The air was still, the weather calm; we hadn't had a day this peaceful for several weeks.

"Yeah, we see each other quite a bit. Weekends tend to be more relaxed, because we're always together at work, but we call each other most evenings and go to new places and what-have-you." He nodded to himself but didn't say anything more, seemingly lost in thought.

I led Matthew back to my house, although he kept up the pretence that he was taking me back there, like a true gentleman. Indeed, when we reached the end of my path, he kissed my hand and watched me amble up to the front door. I smirked and turned away so that he didn't see my blush, twisting the key in the lock and stepping in, leaving the front door open. Humming to myself, I headed for the kitchen to boil some water, and then poked my head back out of the door again to see Matthew standing forlornly at the end of the path, hands clasped nervously together.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Come in!"

His face lit up and he scurried in after me, following me into the kitchen where I pulled two mugs from the cupboard.

"Did you not have any plans for places to go this evening?" I asked him, knowing that he had enjoyed taking me to his favourite places around the town. I'd seen quite a few before, having lived here most of my life, but it all felt so new. Seeing it with Matthew was like seeing it through a different set of eyes, everything so exciting and wonderful. I could pretend that this town didn't have my memories captured in it and instead was an icon of new possibilities and, hopefully, a new future for the pair of us.

"I just fancied chilling out back at your place, y'know. We can't really be completely ourselves outside," he confessed. I poured the water into the mugs, pressing the teabags against the side of the mug to get the full flavour. "I feel like I'm being a bit too clingy, but I just want to be around you all the time." I raised my eyebrows slightly as I poured a dash of milk into both.

"I don't mind that. I love hanging out with you as well, you know." I tilted my head towards him as I carried the mugs into the living room, setting them down on the coffee table. Matthew sat himself down on the sofa beside me and nibbled at the skin on the sides of his fingers. I watched him for a brief moment, sipping at my tea, before saying, "Hey, what's wrong? You can talk to me, you know."

He brought his eyes up to meet mine and chewed on his lip.

"I just...I feel like I'm drawing you away. We've been spending so much time together and-I mean, don't get me wrong, it's been so, so great!" he blurted, prompting a smile from me, "but you don't seem to have as much alone time anymore."

"I'm quite a sociable person, though. My alone time only really needs to be as long as the time I spend asleep, so I wouldn't really worry about it." I desperately hoped that I was conveying my honesty towards him, because I truly meant everything I was saying. Being with Matthew was like a breath of fresh air, and I realised how much I craved a healthy relationship. He wasn't bothering me at all; in fact, he couldn't be further from it.

"But...Dom, weren't you worried about Julia earlier?" I felt my eyebrows draw together with confusion.

"Julia? Why would I be worried about Julia?"

"She seemed pretty down, almost lonely. Have you spoken to her much recently?"

"We speak all of the time at work."

"But have you spent any time with her _outside_  of work?" I could hardly believe my ears. Here I was, hands wrapped around my large, warm mug of tea, getting relationship advice from a socially awkward 20-year-old. It was almost laughable, if I didn't know how accurate he was.

"N-no."

"Because you've been with me." He held my eyes the whole time, and his blunt phrases were all the more guilt-inducing. My stomach twisted as he revealed what I'd been hiding from myself.

"Okay, well, yes, I've been spending a lot more time with you than anybody else, but we still talk, and it's not like we're not friends anymore!" Exasperation started creeping its way into my voice as I tried to think of what to do. I didn't want to sacrifice my time with Matthew, but my stomach felt like it was turning inside out with the guilt.

"Listen, Dominic, I'm not going to tell you how to live your life because that would be ridiculous, but I really think that, if you're going to see her tomorrow, I shouldn't be there." I nodded and remained silent. We sat there for a few moments until Matthew reached out to take one of my hands. His skin was warmed from his own mug of tea and I smiled to feel his touch.

"Yeah," I said finally, sighing to myself, "you're right, I suppose. I'll give her a call as soon as you've left tonight."

"Thank you," he replied earnestly, a relieved smile crossing his face as he leaned over to kiss my cheek. It was funny how such things could please him, when I'd just agreed to leave him to his own devices for the day.

I sat there for a moment, thinking through the conversation. I felt like I was new to relationships, new to learning how to balance different people and give them the attention they deserved, instead of only what I felt I could give them. And was I crowding him? Did I not give him enough 'alone time'? My nerves twisted and untwisted, and I almost laughed at my own idiocy.

"Hey, Dominic." Matthew's voice floated to my ears and knocked me out of my thinking. I looked up at him and he placed a finger under my chin. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure she'll be absolutely fine with it all as long as you remind her how much she means to you." I nodded at him, unable to look him in the eyes, and leant my head down on his shoulder. A skinny arm wrapped around my torso and drew me closer to him. I relaxed in his embrace, letting my eyes fall closed as I contemplated our situation. I could hear Matthew sipping his tea above my head, feel his arm tightening around me as the other drew the mug up to his mouth, and rolled my shoulders.

"Trust me," he whispered to me, setting his mug down again. "Everything is going to be just fine."

I brought my head up from his chest and studied his face. His eyes followed me, observing my movements.

"I don't deserve this," I mumbled while shaking my head, confusion mixed with the scent of Matthew's aftershave addling my brain. I wasn't even sure how I'd ended up here here, wasn't sure how I was on the verge of tears with my face pressed into Matthew's cotton shirt, but it had happened. And now his hand was stroking my face and I was leaning in to press our lips together.

Matthew's hands shifted so that he was cradling my face in them, our noses bumping together awkwardly for the first few moments as we moved. His lips were soft and pliant, glorious to the touch, but there was a driving force behind them that I wasn't expecting. He held me with care and tenderness, his fingers moving of their own accord to stroke the skin of my cheeks where he held me. I felt completely safe in his arms; I could do no wrong here. Nobody could hurt me when I was under Matthew's protection, not even myself.

Matthew's arms fell to rest on my shoulders as his eyes fell closed, and I placed my hands carefully on his waist. I could feel him smiling against my lips a little bit and grinned back before he took control of the situation.

He pulled back for just a moment, eliciting a frown from me, and wriggled around on the sofa. My arms nearly slipped off his waist due to all that wiggling, and I was glad when he finally returned to his place beside me. He drew us together again, one hand under my chin, the other resting comfortably between my shoulder blades. His hand warmed the skin there through my shirt, rubbing circles to soothe me, and gently pushed me closer towards his chest until we met in the middle.

I felt movement and briefly opened my eyes to see Matthew wrapping his legs around my midsection and sitting in my lap, bum resting on my thighs. I barely had time to register my surprise before he was kissing me with a power I hadn't yet known from him, his hands winding in my hair and his chest pressing me back into the sofa.

I was shocked, to say the least, but certainly not displeased. I hadn't been expecting quite this much co-operation during the first two weeks of dating an apparently straight guy, but I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity. Watching my step, I flicked my tongue out to meet his; my nerves burned away when I received an answer. He gently bit down on my lower lip and tugged on it, drawing it back with his teeth. I sighed into his mouth, and, praying that I wasn't going a step too far here, dragged my tongue down the length of his own. It was unbelievably warm, unfamiliar territory, and I could feel his breath coming fast and hard. As soon as the two touched, however, I heard a startled moan, which was immediately cut off by Matthew slamming his teeth together and biting down.

"Matthew!" I wailed, although the word was muffled by his teeth. Sharp points dug into the sensitive tissue, stinging pain shooting through my mouth, and I could taste the metallic tang of blood.

"Sorry!" he cried, setting me free and pulling back. "Oh, God, Dominic, I'm so sorry!" His face was apologetic, cheeks flushed a bright pink and wild hair sending his whole appearance into disarray. Despite the pain in my tongue, I couldn't help chuckling at his mortified position as he wrapped his arms around his own torso, still kneeling on my sofa.

"Don't worry about it, Matthew," I laughed, taking a swig of my now cold tea to soothe it. "Were you alright back there?"

"What, me?" His eyes were wide open and he watched my every move, jerking his own body to mirror me. "Yeah! I was absolutely fine-and-dandy, completely fine, perfect, even." His words flew out of his mouth as if he had to tell me something before the last few seconds of his life.

"Sounds like the name of a train station in Wales." He held a hand up to his face and let his head fall in it, shielding his eyes from me. "I'm serious, Matthew, what was that?"

"I...I mean, well, just," I pulled the hand from his face so I could hear him properly, keeping my fingers still wrapped around his fragile wrist. He looked up at me and swallowed nervously, "I was just embarrassed. I didn't mean...look, could we just forget it ever happened? It's really not anything important and I just...yeah." I bit my lip at his disjointed speech and raised an eyebrow.

"And what prompted you to crawl into my lap?" He shrugged, ducking his head again. Was this even the same Matthew I'd just been kissing? I wrapped an arm around him once more, desperate to coax out that fiery creature that had just had possession of me, but to no avail. It seemed he had retreated back into his shell for good.

"I should probably leave," he mumbled, much to my dismay. "You need to talk to Julia and I've got some studying to do and," he glanced out of the window and the darkening sky, "it's getting pretty late." I nodded sadly and watched as he crawled off the sofa and headed for my front door. I leaned against the wall as he slipped on his shoes and then stood up, brushing down his trousers. I ruffled his hair and opened my arms in invitation, one which he thankfully accepted. Pressing one last kiss to his forehead, he said Goodbye and wandered back down the path.

As soon as he was out of sight, I shut the door and groaned, slumping onto the sofa again. Had I scared him away? Did I go a bit too far? He had initiated some of it himself, but maybe I was one step over the line. I couldn't help but feel like I'd ruined it all.

And of course, with me being me, the sound of Matthew's cut-off moan was echoing around my head over and over until I reached the point where I couldn't concentrate any longer. I drummed my fingers on my knees, planting my feet firmly on the floor to stop them bouncing. I glanced over at the kitchen through the door, the phone coming into view where it rested in the cradle, and knew what I had to do. Putting our two mugs into the dishwasher, I picked up the phone and dialled Julia's number, hoping a calm chat with an old time friend would be enough to soothe the raw nerves that had just been exposed.

I couldn't be rejected again.

 


	10. Chapter 10

I held onto the phone desperately, as if I felt it would fall through my fingers as soon as I loosened my hold.

_One ring..._

_Two rings..._

I tapped my fingers nervously on the counter beside the cradle and bit my lip, hoping she would pick up.

_Three rings..._

_Four rings..._

Why wasn't she answering? Julia was attached to her phone! She always answered my texts within seconds of my sending them, so the only answer I could think of was that she was ignoring me.

_Five rings..._

_Six rings..._

The phone bleeped and I heard her familiar voice over the voicemail asking me to leave a message. Just as I was about to open my mouth to talk, however, a clearer, breathless voice took over: "Dom! You still there?"

I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"Yeah, yeah, I am," I stammered, running a hand through my hair as I took the conversation back into the living room.

"Sorry, I was in the shower." I laughed quietly. "Was there something you wanted?"

I wished there was a coil coming from the bottom of the phone like the old landline used to have, just so I could have something to occupy my restless fingers.

"Um, yeah, actually. Listen, Julia, I..." my cowardliness overtook me and I changed the course my speech was about to take, "I was just wondering what you wanted to do tomorrow. We didn't really sort out a plan in the end." I sat down on the sofa in the exact same place Matthew had been sitting only fifteen minutes prior and waited for her reply. The silence worried me.

"I don't mind, really. Have you or Matthew got any preferences?" I noticed it. I noticed, like Matthew had, that her voice had lost a tiny bit of its life. I was just ashamed that I'd had to have somebody point it out to me first.

"Um, no, not really."

"Well...I don't know, we haven't been to see a film in a while. We could do that, if you want." I nodded eagerly, forgetting that Julia wasn't actually here with me in the room. I had a tendency to get sucked into her conversation and act as if she were in front of me.

"I'd love to do that! I don't know what's on at the moment, but that sounds good to me."

"I heard there's a rom-com out, if you were hoping to get some action with Matthew." Her jibe sounded off and I grimaced, the guilt returning with full-force. I wrung my hands, resting the phone in the crook of my neck, and sighed.

"Listen, Julia," I began, "I-Matthew's not coming with me tomorrow." There was yet another pause, but I could hear her breathing on the other end of the line.

"Did something happen between you two?" Her question was tentative, and I could still hear the hint of worry in her voice. What I ever did to deserve such a caring friend, I would never understand.

"No, not exactly. I just thought that...well, okay, Matthew told me, and then I thought that it should be a day for just us."

"Just us," she repeated.

"Because we haven't hung out recently," I elaborated, waving my hands in the air. "I feel like I've abandoned you a bit, and I'm really sorry about that, honestly." I omitted the part about not realising I was hurting her until Matthew informed me-she didn't need any more to weigh her down than a useless friend.

"I have to say, Dom, this has come as a bit of a relief for me. I was kind of worried about tomorrow but now...Thank you."

"Thank you?"

"Thanks for saying you'll spend the day with me. I know you want to spend all of your time with Matthew-and I can understand that, honestly! He's a really nice guy- but I'm so glad that you haven't forgotten about me. And I'd absolutely love to go to the cinema with you tomorrow." I relaxed and let my head fall back into the cushion behind it, closing my eyes with a smile gracing my lips. Thank God.

"Tickets are on me." She chuckled.

"I'll hold you to that when I bring along ten of my buddies from school."

I rolled my eyes as the conversation shifted to neutral territory, and we nattered about goodness-knows-what for the next hour or so. I knew my phone bill was going to be nightmarish, but it was worth it to right things with Julia. At least I knew I would sleep easy for that night; just that simple confirmation that she hadn't lost all faith in me had brightened my evening significantly, and I realised I had everything I could want laid out in front of me. My relationship with Matthew was blossoming-albeit at a terribly slow pace-I had a secure job, a wonderful best friend, and good days ahead of me. For the first time in several months, I thought back to my teenage years and realised I could probably erase them with only a bit of work. Stability was to be my companion for as long as I could manage.

I was quite proud of myself for not mentioning Matthew for the first hour of my 'date' with Julia the next day. It was only when we were sat in the cinema waiting for the adverts to finish and the film to begin that Julia brought up the subject.

"How's Matthew, then? I can never tell from his face," she asked me, her arm resting over the back of my seat and playing idly with the sleeve of my shirt.

"He's...pretty good, yeah," I said, rubbing a hand over my face as I recalled the events of the previous night.

"And how's your relationship?" She giggled, her tone teasing, and I rolled my eyes.

"If you're this interested in other people's love lives you should just get one of the celebrity magazines from the co-op. I bet that'd suit you well." She scowled, pulling her arm back and crossing them in front of her chest. "Fine, fine, it's going well, I suppose. Slow, but well."

"Why the slow pace? I thought Casanova here didn't even wait a week to get in a guy's pants!" I felt heat rising up my face until the tips of my ears were licked by fire, scoffing at her words. I'd hardly call myself a Casanova, not by any stretch of the imagination. One-night-stands didn't equate to love in any way, shape or form, just drunken pleasure.

"Matthew gets a bit nervous," I explained, scratching at the back of my heated neck. "He likes to push forward, take a step, and then he removes himself further. Each time he tries something, he get so frightened of it that he won't approach it again unless I coax him out of his shell." Admittedly, I was generalising a bit. I hadn't known Matthew that long, and there'd only been two cases of experimenting so far. I should've been more grateful for the positive responses, however it was draining me a bit to constantly reassure him that he wasn't doing anything wrong, but was actually more right than he could imagine. It all felt so, so right.

Julia placed her hand on mine, looking forward at the screen where the film was beginning.

"It'll get easier," she told me honestly, "and he'll lighten up a bit. I guess he's just not used to all of this. Be patient with him."

I'll admit, I wasn't really concentrating on the film. My attention was divided between watching Julia's expressions to see if she was dissatisfied with me, and thinking of how I could try and progress with Matthew. Even checking out the hot guys in the film couldn't calm my thoughts-which was extremely rare, for me.

The day ran smoothly, though. Much to my relief, Julia didn't bring up the topic of my abandoning her, nor did she seem upset about the day. In fact, it was like everything had just been patched up back to normal again, sewing up the wound so cleanly that you couldn't even see the scar tissue. It got me wondering whether I was making a big deal out of it, but I knew in my heart that Julia was incredibly important to me. I wouldn't let down my friends.

I sat on the sofa that night and flicked through my CD collection, looking for something to occupy my mind. Julia had left after having a cup of tea, saying she needed to get back to do a suspicious 'something', and I was left wandering aimlessly around my house and wondering when solitude had turned to loneliness.

A few hours after I'd finished my dinner, the doorbell rang suddenly. I cocked my head to the side and headed for the door, opening it slowly to see who was turning up unannounced this late. Matthew stood outside, leaning against the bricks and waiting for me to appear. As soon as the door opened and light flooded out onto the path, he jumped into the house, pushing the door shut behind him.

"Hi, Matthew," I exclaimed, surprise at his appearance tainting my voice. His hair was dishevelled, eyes wild and, as he leaned against me, I could smell alcohol on his breath.

"Hey, Dominic," he breathed, pressing me against the wall so that our torsos touched. My eyebrows rose to an almost painful height.

"H-how are you?" He shook his head and pressed our lips together, his slim fingers still around my wrists and pinning them to side. I inhaled deeply, doing my best to return his fervent kisses without the use of my hands. I sucked his bottom lip, and his flesh was bittersweet with the taste of beer and unfinished breathmints. He sighed, one of his hands releasing me to tangle itself in my hair and pull me closer. I was surprised by the strength in his grasp, so used to his timid nature that it knocked me off-guard for a moment. As soon as my lips stopped moving against his, he migrated to my jaw, pressing himself to the skin there as I tilted my head back. He mumbled something, then, and I could feel the vibrations against my skin.

"What was that?" I asked between gasps, feeling Matthew's hand slip from my hair to my neck as he began to gently trail it down my back, fingers tiptoeing so exquisitely that I can feel it through the fabric of my shirt. I shuddered beneath his touch. "Matthew, I didn't-didn't hear. What did you say?"

His lips left my skin and he held them just a breath away from mine so I could almost taste his eagerness. The booze on his breath made my head light, my thoughts crashing like a train wreck just by looking into his eyes.

"Want you," he murmured breathily, fusing us together again. We moved in tandem, my hands on his back to press him closer, just for a bit more contact, a little bit more, more, more. "Please let me."

How could I not? I'd be a fool to deny him anything, this angel of a boy with the devilish glint in those deep blues.

I let my head fall back against the wall and disappeared into a world of wooziness and Matthew, his hands seemingly everywhere as he caressed my body. It had been so long, far too long, and he looked so beautiful in the light of my hallway that I could hardly tear my eyes away. I could feel him sliding his hand further and further until it brushed the front of my groin and I bit my lip, bucking up into his touch. There was the tiniest of smirks on his lips and he seemed to revel in the slowness as he gently eased the zipper down.

I held my breath, squeezing my eyes shut in disbelief. Was he really doing this? I could feel him against where I so desperately wanted him, could sense his face only inches away from my own, but Julia's earlier words came echoing and I swallowed nervously.

"Matthew, I-" He laid a finger over my lips, effectively shutting me up as he continued his ministrations. I could feel the fabric of my trousers starting to slide down my legs and my eyes shot open, warning bells beginning to ring. I removed a hand from the heated skin of his back to push away the finger and spoke, "Matthew, I think you should-I mean, you have to stop."

He chuckled.

"Don't you like it, Dominic?" he asked, his voice innocent but his lewd smile giving him away. His speech was slow as he tried to work the trousers further down my legs, fumbling with what should have been an easy task. "It seems to me like you're enjoying this."

"No! I mean, well-yes, but you have to listen to me."

"I'm not a child, Dominic." I fell silent as cool air hit the skin on my legs and Matthew's cooler skin brushed it softly. He pressed his lips to my cheek, a reassuring reminder of his gentle nature, and I relaxed into his touch, reminding myself that he was, in fact, a man, and his shyness didn't make him incapable or childlike. His fingers carefully brushed across the front of my boxers, and I let out a groan at the thin layer of cotton sliding over me, willing myself to remain patient.

I glanced down at Matthew, who had paused, eyes wide as he stared back up at me from chest-height. His, "Oh," was almost silent, but in the quiet of the hallway, I could hear him loud and clear.

Swallowing nervously, I warily asked, "Matthew, is everything alright?" He shook his head shakily.

"I-God, I'm so drunk!" he cried, holding a hand to his head as he swayed on his feet, stretching up to full height. "Dominic, I'm so sorry. I'm-" He broke off, shaking his head and stumbling to my front door.

"Wait! Matthew, stop-" I was interrupted by the sound of the door slamming, and he was gone again. My trousers half way down my legs, I slid down the wall and placed my head in my hands. "Fuck."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally caught up with everything I had pre-written. Everything from here on is new.

I should have known things would be difficult. With Matthew's background and his generally nervous disposition, I should have known it wouldn't be smooth sailing. And yet I was so worried about not overstepping the line that I forgot he might come from another angle. I suppose there's a bit of his psychology that directs him towards people, and another warring part that drags him away. I won't pretend to know anything about how the human mind works, and I didn't want to make assumptions about him that could be entirely incorrect, but I realised that I was probably one of the most important people in his life at the time. He seemed to be quite a lonely soul.

And yet, having made this connection in my head, I was still berating myself for scaring him away. Even if he had been the one to take that step, I should have been better. I should have pushed him away, and I didn't.

_Goddamnit, Dominic._

I can't remember how long I sat there by the front door with my trousers around my ankles, but it was long enough for me to blush if I were to admit it. Hours passed me by as I sat, lost in my own thoughts and worrying-always worrying-about Matthew. I eventually picked myself up and traipsed up to bed, collapsing onto the mattress in my clothes and waiting for my eyes to slip shut. My mind kept me up until it began to grow light again, a silent splash of colour creeping up the walls of my bedroom as I realised the sun was beginning to rise and it was Sunday already. I had planned to lie in, considering my late night, but, of course, I was interrupted by the phone ringing.

My heart leapt as I scrambled for the phone, my trousers binding my ankles and eventually preventing me from getting there as quickly as I could, only hindering me and making me impossibly clumsier. Once I'd pressed down the button, however, eager to answer my mysterious morning caller, only an automated voice was there to greet me and tell me I had a book overdue from the library. Flinging the phone across the side of the room and regretting it instantly when I heard the crashing sound that could only mean something bad, I flopped face first into the pillows and yelled at the top of my lungs. I yelled until my throat was raw with passing air, until I ran dry and couldn't make a noise any louder than the tiniest squeak, and then I stumbled my way back down the stairs to make a cup of tea.

"Looks like I'm only getting four hours of sleep tonight, then," I muttered to myself, stirring the milk into the liquid and scowling when I realised I hadn't taken the tea bag out. I shuffled to the front room, kicking off my trousers and shivering when I felt the sofa fabric against my bare legs but not having the willpower to do anything about my situation. I was half-praying that Julia would call me up but knew she was busy with her boyfriend, which only reminded me about my 'boyfriend' and then set me off wondering whether I could call him that if he was scared off by my nether regions.

It was laughable, really. Part of me felt like a stupid teenager, constantly thinking about this boy until he consumed every waking minute of my life, but the other part of me was genuinely worried for the both of us. He could drive me up the wall if he continued in the same vein yet, somehow, I knew I wouldn't be able to give him up. There was a cord between us that kept tugging me in whenever I started to stray, and the rope wrapped around my waist was beginning to feel familiar, almost comforting. I just had to hope it didn't ride up to my neck.

I read for most of the day, ignoring the paperwork I knew I had to fill out by the next morning. The boss never came around that often, so I'd be able to get it done during my lunch break, if I knew my schedule. I watched out the window as people passed by, walking in pairs and groups, and sighed to myself. I felt just as lonely as I'd been when I started out, but with one hundred extra problems settled on my shoulders.

"For God's sake, Matthew, just call me up already," I grumbled to myself, knowing it was futile.

I was almost ready to turn in for the night when the doorbell rang, a similar time to the previous night. I paused in the hallway and slowly turned to stare at the door. I was so sure that Matthew was standing behind it that I could envision his figure burnt into the wood, his right hand itching his left elbow as he bit his lip and stared at the floor. And I had absolutely no idea what to do about it. My heart was telling me to walk away. My heart was telling me to ignore it and pretend that I didn't realise it was him and didn't open my door to random strangers on my doorstep, because I'd been hurt last night. I hadn't realised it had been so terrifying for him, and while I was supportive and understood that it was difficult stepping into a new relationship, the fact that I'd scared him off so easily was a bit of sharp blow.

But then my mind was telling me that, if I just opened the door and let him in, we could negotiate something and I could have the relationship I'd been looking for. The past few days had suggested so much, so many opportunities and futures opening up for us, and I knew I would be a fool to let them slip through my fingers. Cradling the mug of hot chocolate I'd just made in my hands, I opened the front door and, of course, there was Matthew, standing forlornly on my doorstep. As soon as the door opened, he looked up, and I could tell from his eyes that he was stone cold sober. He opened his mouth to speak but I shook my head, leaning against the door. His lips closed, pressed into a tight line as he waited for me to say something.

"Matthew," I whispered, finding myself incapable of saying anything else. He watched me nervously, lips twitching with the urge to say something. "Is this about last night?"

"Yeah," he croaked out. "Listen, Dominic, I'm s-" I cut him off again, holding a finger up and opening the door wider.

"Why don't you come in?" His eyebrows drew together, little dents of confusion forming on his forehead. He warily stepped over the threshold and I shut the door behind him, leaning against it with one arm wrapped around my torso, the other bringing the mug to my lips so I could take a sip.

"Matthew, I just..." I trailed off, squeezing my eyes shut and realising that I was completely unprepared for this sort of conversation. I was inches away from ruining everything, and the weight of that truly terrified me. "I need an explanation. If you don't want to be in this relationship, then please, just please tell me." His eyes widened until I could see the full, perfect circle of blue, his lips parting in surprise.

"Don't want this?" he asked, eyebrows arching. "Of course I want this! That's-I mean, it's just part of the problem, really. You deserve an explanation, and I'm really not sure whether I'm able to give you one."

"Let's start with why you turned up at my house last night, smashed out of your mind." He turned his head to the side, unable to look me in the eyes, and studied the pattern on the walls of my hallway.

"I...I just wanted to see you. I was out with my friends and I was bored of them. They're nowhere near as interesting as you are, Dom. They're not funny like you and they don't treat me as an equal like you and I just felt this sort of weird sort of longing and-that sounds really pathetic, I know. But I just wanted to be around you and I was a bit drunk and I thought that it would be a good idea to turn up."

He was still refusing to look at me, and I knew there was something more, something that he wasn't admitting. However, I didn't choose to push that line of inquiry any further, instead moving to a different and, as expected, slightly more important topic.

"And the, uh, feeling-me-up incident? Was that because you were drunk, too?" A fierce blush coloured his cheeks, and I knew he was remembering his actions, just as I was. I could almost feel a phantom hand trailing the same paths he had, and shook my head as if I could throw them off my chest.

"Um," he began, throat sounding dry, "well, I just...I dunno, Dom, you should know I can't explain these things. I just wanted you and you seemed up for it. I'm so sorry if I went too far, really, you have to believe me." He turned to face me again, eyes wide and earnest. There wasn't a single way I couldn't believe him, but I was still determined to understand. I couldn't let something like this happen again. I needed to right my wrongs, and he had to do the same. It finally began to click that a balance between the pair of us was necessary, and now I just had to figure out how to make things line up. Which is easier said than done.

“And then you ran away.” He scowled, much to my surprise, and wrung his hands.

“I know. I’m a coward and I’m sorry.”

“But why?” Perhaps I was embarrassing him but pursuing this topic. Perhaps I was annoying him or mabe even upsetting him that I was so insistent on knowing, but I wanted answers. Inviting him obviously wasn't going to work.

“Because...I just, I mean...fuck, Dominic, I don’t know, okay? I don’t know why I did it and I don’t know why I ran away and I just know I did it!” Everything came spilling out all of a sudden, Matthew’s cheeks flushed with fire. “Maybe I was scared! Maybe I was worried about doing something wrong or about becoming someone I’m not or about not being enough for you or about rushing into things and changing myself beyond recognition because it wouldn’t be the first time and I’m just so paranoid all the time, I always feel I’m going to do something wrong and you’re so perfect and I just don’t feel enough for you and it’s fucking killing me, Dominic, I don’t know what to do.”

My jaw dropped and I stood, staring, for the next couple of seconds, trying to take in everything he’d just said-shouted-while it was still visible in the air.

"I'm sorry; I'll just go," he muttered, voice cracking as he tried to push past me. I spread myself across the front of the door, still numb and speechless, so that he couldn't pass, and he narrowed his eyes at me. "You're not helping."

"I'm not letting you leave." One eyebrow seemed to rise of its own accord, and he stared at me, those sharp eyes full of accusations. I could only imagine half of what he must have been thinking right then, as I was struggling to comprehend my own thoughts. 'Perfect?' _Me?_ Was he really worried about not being good enough for me? It was difficult to believe that he couldn't see how beautiful he was, a strong yet gentle soul, full of life and beauty.

"Matthew."

It was all I could manage and yet, somehow, it was enough. He fell towards me and my arms moved just in time to catch him in an embrace, clutching him to my chest as he burrowed his head into my shoulder. I stroked his hair softly, able to make out a few, "I'm sorry"s from his mumblings but nothing more. The feeling of his body in my arms when I was comforting him reminded me of days when I'd wished I had someone there for me, wished I had someone who I could turn to when I was upset and they'd tell me everything would be okay. Even when it wouldn't.

"Hey, it's okay, Matthew, you have nothing to be sorry for," I whispered. "I'm sorry if I seemed harsh earlier. I really wanted to know what was going through your head and I was confused and worried and I must've seemed so rude and I'm sorry."

He shook his head, his nose brushing my skin through the fabric of my shirt, and his hands scrabbled on my back, pulling me tighter into his grasp. I was determined to be everything for Matthew. Whatever he needed me to be, I would be it. If he wanted a shoulder to cry on, I would be there. If he wanted advice, I would be more than willing to share it with him. If he wanted somewhere to spend the night, I'd give up the whole house for his use, just so that he was comfortable. He pulled his head up so that he could look me in the eyes, and I noticed that they were red-rimmed but still dry. His breathing was steady and his skin was still clear, surprisingly, and the lack of a wet patch on my shoulder suddenly came to my attention.

"Please tell me you accept my apology," he begged, his breath tickling my skin from his closeness.

"You have no-" I began, but he laid a slim finger over my lips and his lips curved upwards ever so slightly.

"Dominic, just do this, please, for me." I sighed and reluctantly nodded, but it was all worth it for his smile. The relief that washed over his features was clear as day and I wondered, for about the millionth time, what I had that made him want me at all. How I had ever stumbled across such a creature, I would never understand. I grabbed his hand, tugging him towards the sitting room.

"Do you want a hot chocolate? I made one for myself earlier, although it's a bit cold, now."

"No, thanks, Dom." He made himself at home on the settee, lounging back into the cushions and watching me as I downed the last of my lukewarm chocolate and put it in the sink. I rejoined him on the sofa and opened my arms, inviting him to crawl into them. He pressed a kiss to my neck and curled up, his head resting on my chest as it rose and fell.

"You know that I think you're amazing, don't you?" I said gently after a few minutes of peace, placing two fingers under his chin and turning his head up so he had to look me in the eye. He scoffed.

"I know that you're deluded by lack of boyfriends for the past few months or whatever."

"Cheeky!” I exclaimed, pinching his ribs. He emitted a high-pitched squeal and tried to fling himself away from me, but I grabbed his waist and pinned him in place, one arm shakily holding my body up as I leant over him and began to tickle the living daylights out of him. His shrieks rose in pitch as I moved further up his body and I could feel my grin widening to painful levels. He wailed as my fingers neared his armpits, a few tears squeezed out from the corners of his eyes.

"St-stop!" he choked out between laughs. "Dominic-Dom, please!"

I complied to his wheezing, pulling my hands away to allow him a breather. He gasped for breath, a few intermittent chuckles showing through as he gradually calmed down. I watched with a wide smile and laid down just so that our chests touched but I wasn't leaving all my bodyweight on him. His gasps fading into sighs, he looked up at me just as I leaned down to press our lips together, and his eyes fluttered shut. There was a murmur of content as I gently stroked up and down the sides of his torso, with just enough pressure so that he didn't dissolve into giggles again. My hands slipped under his shirt to warm, soft skin, supple beneath my fingertips.

"You're like an angel or something," I breathed, only for him to start laughing again. "What? I'm being serious!"

He shook his head, our noses bumping awkwardly as he made for my lips again. The shirt rode further up his chest as he wriggled and shifted on the sofa, looping his arms around my neck and drawing me closer. I let my eyes drift closed as my hands navigated their way across the planes of his chest, careful with my touches as I explored his creamy skin. He sighed my name against my lips and I found myself moving faster, like the thrills of the previous night but with the control of sober minds.

"I'm drunk on you." His breath was cool against my heated skin and I shivered, his words dancing in my mind as I leaned further into his touch. The shirt was at his shoulders now, his chest laid bare in front of me. He broke away from me to shrug it off completely, tossing it to the side as he reclaimed his place on my jaw. I tilted my head back, the feeling of his lips sliding wetly against my skin sending me over the edge into a world of lust and simple, hazy being. I was intoxicated by his touches, his hands everywhere at once, one carding through my hair and the other stroking my forearms, fiddling with my fingers, sending shivers up my spine.

"You...you-God, Matthew, my God." I felt him smile against me and reopened my eyes to see molten blue staring back at me, like storm clouds gathering in a clear sky. I shuddered beneath his gaze, eager to return my hands to his skin. His soft sighs of bliss and tiny mewls drove me on, an aphrodisiac of adoration. He turned his head to the side, offering the opportunity for me to explore his neck, kissing up the sides of the more prominent tendons and watching him squirm. His eyes flickered across the room to the clock and he groaned.

"Dominic," he began, breath slightly raspy, "I-"

"You need to leave," I finished for him, knowing he would be awkward with the statement. I sat up, stretching my back and feeling it click.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. It's getting quite late and I really need to get back before they start asking where the hell I've been."

"That's fine, Matthew." I heaved myself off of him, freeing his legs so that he could climb off the sofa. However, he remained in place, relaxing into the seats.

"Don't wanna leave," he mumbled, turning onto his side and curling into the back of the sofa. I laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to the base of his spine, looking up as I did to see a trail of vertebrae moving elegantly in unison. He jolted, sitting up and knocking me off balance as his arms were flung out. I slipped off my feet and onto my arse, wincing as I hit the hard floor. 

"Oh! Dom, sorry, I-" He flushed, his cheeks tinged pink as he watched me pick myself up off the floor. I shook my head, hoping he could see the smile permanently resting on my lips. It was always there when I was with him.

"Don't worry about it. It got you up, didn't it?" He nodded, coughing into his fist as he scrambled off the sofa to fetch his shirt. I handed it to him, watching his stomach muscles as he shrugged it on. They slowly disappeared behind the fabric and I pouted. We walked to the front door and I leaned against my usual spot on the wall, watching Matthew open the door.

"That was, uh...great," Matthew told me, honesty in his voice as he looked up with a smile in his eyes. "And I'm sorry ab-" I pushed him, shoving him out of the door and onto the doorstep, effectively cutting off his apology. His jaw dropped as he stumbled onto the path and I cracked up at his outrage.

"Your face is priceless!" He scowled at me playfully and then waved, shoving the other hand in his pocket.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" I nodded, biting the corner of my lips. "Bye, then."

"Bye, Matthew." I watched as he walked down the path, shoulders slightly less hunched than usual, and closed the door behind him.

Success.


	12. Chapter 12

I could hear the sound of music streaming through the window as I walked up to the building and laughed quietly into my hand, pressing the button and waiting for somebody to hurry down. An ‘I’ll get it!’ was called and a blurry figure appeared behind the glass, the door swinging open to reveal Tom’s grinning face.

“Hey! It’s Dom, right?” he asked, stepping to the side and tilting his head. I nodded with a small smile. “I guess you’re here to see Matt. He’s just playing something at the moment, but I’m sure he’ll-um, I hope he’ll fit you into his ever so tight schedule.” He smirked and let me in, the door swinging shut behind me. I jogged up the stairs, following him into their shared kitchen, where I could hear the music clearly.

“Is this a new piece he’s working on?” I inquired as Tom handed me a glass of juice, which I thanked him for and sipped slowly.

“Yeah, he’s been going at it all day. I told him to stop for lunch but he wouldn’t.” I felt my eyes widen and looked down the hall towards the source of the music.

“Is it really that important that he won’t even pause to eat?” Tom shook his head.

“It shouldn’t be, really. It’s just something we’re doing for the band so we’ll have a bit more original material whenever we next do a gig, but he’s fixated on it. I suppose it’s because he takes a lot of pride in his work, and so he should, but it’s worrying me.”

I frowned. Tom seemed a lot nicer than I had assumed he would be from what Matthew had told me, although I knew I shouldn’t have been judging from a handful of complaints. He obviously had a life of his own to worry about, but I could tell that he really did care for his friend, even if he wasn’t very good at letting Matthew know.

“I’m glad you’re here, actually. You’re very friendly with him-maybe you’ll be able to convince him to let it go for now.” I nodded, resting the glass on the counter.

“I’ll give it a go.”

I made my way down the hallway, the music growing louder as I came nearer. The door was ajar, and I could just about see his carpet through the crack, a few sheets strewn about. I knocked on the door, firmly enough so that it could be heard, and a groan sounded from within.

“Go away, Tom. I’ve already told you that I’m too busy to do whatever you’re asking for,” Matthew grumbled, the music continuing without a hitch.

“Matthew?”

As soon as the words left my mouth, the music came to an abrupt halt. The door was pulled wider so that I could see Matthew sprawled on the floor, surrounded by sheets of guitar tab, the guitar resting in his lap. He was still in his pyjamas, the checked pattern of his trousers and messy hair making me smile.

“Hi, Dominic!” He grinned at me from the floor, eyes sparkling as he stared up at me. He tried to roll over so he could get up but got caught in his guitar lead, pouting as he wriggled out of the guitar strap. My lips twitched as I crouched down and sat on the floor beside him, crossing my legs underneath my body.

“I like your shirt.” He looked down at his chest, tracing the letters with his fingers, before his eyes returned to my face.

“It was a Christmas present from Chris,” he told me with a grin, and I chuckled.

“Suits you.” He shrugged. “You’ve been busy, I see.” He nodded, fingers absently plucking the strings. The amp in the corner of the room buzzed and I could feel it through the floor.

“Trying to get something new in time for the next gig.”

“When are you playing?”

“Dunno yet. Hopefully soon. We’re trying to set up our own thing instead of a whole uni thing, but it’s proving quite difficult.” I raised my eyebrows.

“So...you haven’t even got a gig on the calendar yet, but you’re spending your whole day doing this?” His hand paused as it scratched the back of his neck and his eyes narrowed at me.

“Tom sent you in here, didn’t he.” I rested my hands on my knees.

“I came here because I wanted to see you. It was only when I turned up that Tom asked me to see if I could get some food into you. He’s worried about you, Matthew.” He rolled his eyes and turned away from me, pulling the guitar back into his lap. I felt my heart sink as he ignored me but wouldn’t allow myself to accept failure just yet.

“I’m fine, and he knows it. This isn’t the first time.” Not that that particular phrase worried me or anything.

“Look, Matthew, I’m sure you know better than I do that song-writing is a long process. It won’t just come to you like that. You need to take a break, even if it’s just five minutes to eat a sandwich. You can’t get it all done today, what with edits and the other parts as well.”

“You’re stressing me out,” he sang, an irritated lilt to his reply as he bent over the body of the guitar, plectrum gripped between his front teeth. I sighed and ran a hand down my face, squeezing my eyes shut for a second, spots flickering behind my eyelids.

“Don’t make me tie you down and force feed you, Matthew.” His fingers faltered briefly before they swiftly picked up the melody again, but I noticed.  “That got a reaction, didn’t it?” I unfolded my legs, smirking to myself and crawling towards him on all fours. His lips twitched as he felt me come closer but he didn’t shift. “Would you like that? Is that why you’ve been refusing everyone all this time, because you knew I would come over and give you what you want?”

He shivered as my breath hit his skin, and I felt relief flood through me at seeing his reaction. Thank goodness he was still responding to me.

“C’mon, Matthew, take a break. Come and have some fun with me. I came all the way over here to see you; are you really going to ignore me now?”

“You and your guilt-tripping,” he mumbled, putting the guitar down and crawling into my arms. “Nobody should ever go near you or they’ll never get out. You’re like...toffee or something. Get stuck to me.”

He rested his chin on my shoulder and let out an involuntary sigh as he felt my laughter rumble through me. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him properly into my lap, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“Got to keep you fed,” I whispered, patting his barely-there stomach. “You can be my pet cat.” He purred and snuffled laughter against my skin as I stroked along his spine.

“Feels nice.”

“Yeah?”

Our muted conversation fell into the soft sounds of breathing and fabric sliding over skin, and I suddenly remembered that Matthew was still only in his pyjamas. I swallowed nervously, tongue darting out to wet my lips, and tightened my arms around him, closing my eyes and trying to take my mind off it. The growling of his stomach interrupted our cuddle session and Matthew giggled. I ruffled his hair and said,

“I told you you’d have to eat something. It’s lucky you have me to remind you how to be a human being.” He rolled his eyes at me.

“I know how to be a human being. I was just trying to make being a human being better.” I raised an eyebrow, leaning back on my arms as he got up.

“You plan to save the world with your music? That’s quite the ambition.”

“Not exactly,” he laughed, walking over to his wardrobe. He selected a few clothes and then turned around, holding them in front of his body and waving his hand at me.

“Go on, then, off you go. I need to get dressed,” he urged me. I made no effort to get up, instead angling myself so that he was entirely in my vision, from head to toe. He awkwardly shuffled his feet and scratched the side of his nose, watching me curiously. “I’ll be out for food in a minute, I promise.” Still, I refused to move. “Dominic...”

“What if I just stay here?”

He paused, and I was sure that I could taste a new flavour in the air, alighting on something that hadn’t been there before but was most certainly there now. His arms dropped slowly, hanging at his sides, the bottoms of the trousers he’d selected brushing against the carpet. His lips parted and my stomach curled at the new darkness that was revealed in his eyes, a glint of something I’d only seen from him once-and he’d said he was drunk.

“Yeah?” his murmur was barely audible, whispered into the ether as if waiting for somebody to tell us not to, to tell us that this was too much, too fast.

Nothing came.

His fingers tiptoed to the hem of his shirt, toying with the material, his head nodding slightly as though there were music only he could hear, an intrinsic beat he moved to, everybody else dragged along and dancing out of time. His own personal symphony was the way he slowly lifted his shirt up, eyes fallen shut, Matthew chasing me out of my mind, words on my lips waiting to spill yet halted by the sight of ivory skin and a light dusting of hair. Ribs jutting out, threatening to burst the skin; a tiny, dark mole in the divot of his spine; the play of the muscles in his back, shoulder blades shifting as though on strings; the way his rosy lips parted, inaudible melodies sung in the space of the five seconds we were trapped together; a beat in 4/4, that one hook that continued to elude him manifested in the air, electric blue eyes suddenly wide with shock.

“Dominic.”

A gasp belonging to both of us, T-shirt clutched in restless hands, scrambling back and hitting my head against the bedside table.

“I should go,” I breathed, only staying to see his nod for myself before throwing myself out of the door, leaning against the wall and giving myself time to gather my wits.

Damn it.

Damn it, damn it, _damn it._

I closed my eyes and flexed my fingers, linking them together so that I wouldn’t punch the wall, and steadied my breathing, not having noticed it grow erratic. _All he did was take off his shirt. It’s not like he hasn’t done that before in my presence!_ And yet everything was so different. Every time I saw Matthew, he was changed, growing by the hour. I’d seen so many facets of him in the few weeks that I’d known him, all more beautiful than the last, and I couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before I saw a side of him I didn’t like too much. It still seemed impossible to me that such a person could exist.

I brushed down the front of my shirt and made my way to the kitchen. Tom had disappeared off somewhere, so I sat at the table by myself, idly drumming my fingers on the wood and waiting for Matthew to emerge.

Finally, I heard the creak of the door and Matthew’s footsteps in the hallway. He appeared in all white, the only colour the black of his belt, the strap dangling from his hips. I swallowed as he passed me, fetching a glass from the cupboard above him, his short shirt sleeves sliding down further to give me a glimpse of lean muscles. I turned away, unsure I could face it anymore, and listened to the rush of water as he poured himself a drink. The taps squeaked as he twisted them, and he gulped the water down noisily. I wondered if he was as feverish as I felt.

I bit my lip when there was no sound and opened my eyes to find him right in front of me. He gifted me with a lopsided smile and slid fluidly onto my lap, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and locking our lips together. It took a few seconds to respond until my brain caught up, my hands belatedly finding their way to his hips to hold him in place, his precarious position on what couldn’t be a particularly strong chair unnerving me.

“Dominic,” he whispered, his teasing tone drawing my eyes up from the chair legs, “I’m trying to get your attention here.” He pressed a kiss to the skin beneath my ear, continuing, “I don’t want you to hold back. I want this.” His lips travelled a path down my neck, his nose skimming my collarbone and inhaling deeply. “I really do. How much more do I need to convince you?” My hands tightened their hold, drawing him closer to me, and his teeth accidentally scraped against my shoulder. My breath caught in my throat as my skin broke out into goosebumps, an apology dying on Matthew’s lips as he watched me.

“Interesting,” he noted with a mischievous grin, taking my face into his hands, his right thumb tracing the curve of my top lip, which trembled beneath his touch. “You liked that?” His lips were pressed fleetingly against my chin before he pulled away again. “How about this?” The tip of his tongue flickered out to taste my bottom lip, his forehead resting on my own, each of my nerve endings shivering with delight. He sealed our lips together, the pair of us as close to each other as we could get. My hands ran up and down his spine, drawing delicious shivers from him with every touch. He tilted his head, citrus-scented hair brushing my skin where it was growing out. His hands gripped my shoulders tightly before sliding down to my chest, marking his territory without resistance. He pushed off, leaning back and looking me in the eyes. “Don’t run away next time. Please.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

Satisfied, he smiled beatifically and rested his head where his hands had just squeezed, his steady breathing comforting as I held him. His legs were either side of my hips, ankles hanging a few inches above the floor. He giggled, suddenly, jerking in my arms. Bemused, I poked his waist, which only spurred more laughter.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, able to hear the smile in my voice.

“I was just thinking about what Tom’s face would look like if he walked in right now.”

I paused, Matthew still chuckling away.

“Why would you wonder that?”

“I don’t know. It could happen.” He pulled his head from my shoulders, placing his feet on the floor and smiling at me. “Does it matter?”

“Well, what would you say if he came in? What do you think _he_ would say?”

Matthew nibbled on his bottom lip as he thought, hands absently tapping a beat on my knees. “I don’t know, really. I think he might be surprised, but I know Tom. It wouldn’t upset him or anything.”

“I should hope not,” I muttered. It would be so typical that everything was going so well and Matthew’s friends would mess it up for us. I refused to let the bigots continue to hurt me, and I was going to protect Matthew at all cost, even if it killed me.

“Nah, I don’t know. I guess we’ll have to wait for it to happen, won’t we?”

“I should think you’d tell him instead of waiting for him just to find out by himself.”

I noticed his Adam’s apple bobbing as he averted his eyes, and I frowned.

“Is there a problem with that, Matthew?” I asked, my stomach twisting sickeningly at his sudden retreat.

“N-no. No, there isn’t. I just...” My natural instinct was to accuse him of keeping the relationship a secret, to ask him whether he was ashamed of us, of me. But I could see in the way his jaw had set suddenly, the way his eyelashes fluttered as he resisted looking at me, that he wouldn’t. If I knew anything about Matthew at all, I knew I had to trust him on this one.

I tightened my arms slightly so that he was tucked closer towards me once more.

“You don’t have to be scared, you know.” His eyes finally closed in resignation, his lips flickering at the edges as he shook his head and curled up in my arms.

“I’m not. Just anxious. Not scared.” I nodded, resting my chin on his head and stroking his hair.

“I know how you feel. You know it doesn’t have to be that way. I’m here for you. Your friends will accept you. Your family will still love you. I’m sure of it, Matthew.”

I had never been so confident about anything in my entire life. My experiences with my parents, with my school friends; they didn’t matter anymore. Matthew’s life was different, and he had someone. He had me.

“I really hope you’re right.”

“Of course I am. I’m always right.”

I felt him smile against my chest, and everything settled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Matthew was ~doing the thing~ I was listening to Atlas by Coldplay. Not exactly an inspiration, but that was what I was hearing. It's a gorgeous song.  
> Oh, and this is Matthew's shirt from Chris: http://img0.etsystatic.com/000/0/6104775/il_570xN.195755268.jpg  
> It's like the lamest thing ever. If I were Matthew I would've kicked him in the nuts. I like to think that he did.


End file.
